If I wrote you a love song
by LovelessDestiny
Summary: Clint/Phil, slash. Clint and Phil broke up years ago but they can't let go of the past. They have to work together again and old feelings and grudges return, it's a story about how they find their way back together.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own the Characters and I don't own the movies, comics etc. All rights belong to Marvel.

I borrowed the name of the story from "Stay" by Black Stone Cherry. The song inspired me and I chose the title before I even wrote the first sentence of the story; of course the song doesn't belong to me.

Rating: T, M, NC-17. I'm paranoid.

Warning: Violence, angst, I'm a youth/child care worker (residential group home) and not a doctor, hurt/comfort, sometimes I've got stupid ideas, whump!Clint, Phil has a bad temper at times, smut (I'm not good at it, sorry).

A./N.: To be honest the story is pretty old. I started it together with "Backstabbing". I had more ideas than fit into one story so I wrote two. But I never finished this one.

One of my dear readers asked for some smut and I stopped writing this story at a point where I intended to skip the sex scene again that's why I'm continuing this one. It's almost finished, one or two more chapters will follow.

I'm sorry it's nothing new and you might be disappointed but I hope you give it a try.

I dedicate this one to Gleidison, for blowing a hole into my writers block.

Thank you very much.

…

By the way I'm still in need of a beta reader. Sadly I never managed to find someone who's interested. People aren't happy with my English-skills and they have every right to be unhappy, I try to learn but it's not enough.

Sometimes I get so many mean messages I think it would be better to write in my own language.

:::::::::::::::::::::::

The battle was over and most of town had been rebuilt but the wounds Loki inflicted on most human's heart and soul would remain. It had been a painful battle; many had died and as many got hurt. Children lost their parents, parents lost their children. That was the way war worked.

Loki had brought a new team together, ready to avenge the lost souls.

Loki's war had brought them together but it was Fury's lie that kept them together, like glue.

After the truth came out in the open, they had been angry and disappointed but they couldn't deny that what they did on a daily basis was important. So they stayed together, with their beloved Coulson as their liaison.

They all had their burdens to carry but Barton felt like the weight of his issues was tearing him apart. His relationship with Coulson was strained at best for a long time now and Loki's attack made it even worse. He couldn't look Coulson in the eye; it was too hard to bear his presence.

They had been together for almost two years before Clint broke up with his handler. It didn't work out between them. Their working relationship had suffered and their private life hadn't been better. It wasn't that Clint didn't love his handler. He loved Phil with all his heart but they couldn't stay together. It wasn't possible. Coulson's 'death' had reopened all the wounds inside his battered heart and soul and he was even more convinced that his decision to break it off had been the right one.

"Do you even listen to me?" Steve glared at him.

"Sorry, no."

"You're behaving like an adolescent since the day Coulson came through that door two months ago."

"If you think that's his adolescent behavior you're wrong," Coulson joined them in the mission room. "He's at his best behavior right now."

"That I am," Clint forced a grin onto his face. He was glad for his ever present shades, or else his eyes would betray his inner turmoil and the love he harbored for the older agent.

"Use easier words," Coulson took the seat next to Natasha, who sent Coulson a glare for his poor choice of words.

"Why, is birdie brain not smart enough?" Tony grinned at Clint, waiting for a witty reply.

"You hacked into our files, you know the answer," Clint stated, ignoring Tony's try to banter.

"I do," Tony nodded. "You're smart though, just lazy."

"Thanks pal."

"Enough," Steve chided. "We have more important things to do than argue about his poor education." Cap blushed a little as he realized what he had said.

"Come on ol' man, tell us your plan," Clint crossed his arms in front of his chest, leaning back in his chair.

Phil watched the archer during the whole meeting. He missed Clint, dearly. Not working together felt strange, he couldn't get used to it, even though their working relationship was not the best near the end. New Mexico was awkward and it was one of the rare times they spent some time together after their messy breakup. During their time on base to protect the teseract they were too busy avoiding each other; or else they might have gotten the chance to reconnect. Phil had no idea why Clint broke up with him. Their relationship had been well. They were happy, so he thought. A short mission, a movie, a loving evening together and BAM the next morning Barton was gone. _Sorry sir but it doesn't work between us. _Clint asked for a new handler and one day he vanished from the face of earth, and that for months. Phil kept an eye on Clint for the first few weeks in hope to find an answer to the burning question in his mind. But he never found one. After a while Phil started to hate Clint for what he'd done, it still hurts like it was yesterday. He ignored anything that was related to the archer, mission reports, medical reports; all of it was not his concern anymore. He had no idea what happened before New Mexico and after Loki's attack, and he didn't care. He persuaded himself that he did not care anymore but he knew deep down that it was a lie.

"What do you think?" Steve asked.

"I think I can track them with JARVIS's help," Tony rubbed his goatee. "Hydra shouldn't be so hard to find."

"They're good at hiding. We needed months to find their first base; okay, Natasha needed months to infiltrate them." He rolled his eyes as Natasha kicked against his shin.

"They like islands and jungles," Phil mused. "I'd keep an eye on the satellites."

"Good idea," Tony ordered Jarvis to hack into every satellite.

"You don't need to hide the fact that you constantly spy on satellites and S.H.I.E.L.D. databases," Clint tilted his head in Tony's direction. "We know that."

"I don't…"

"Yes you do," Phil and Natasha said in unison.

"Busted," he mumbled. "What else do you know?"

Clint and Natasha just grinned while Phil sent him his best death glare, "More than we ever wanted to know." Stark was the reason Fury kept important personal and mission related information far away from their servers.

Tony's eyes widened, "So what do we do, in case we find them?"

"We will send a few teams to make sure they never cause any harm again," Phil said coolly.

"Sounds good," Steve agreed and called an end to the meeting after thirty long minutes of arguing and tough-talking.

"Coulson," Clint didn't know why he called out to him. _I have nothing to say, nothing I want you to know. _

Coulson turned around, "Yes, specialist?"

Clint opened and closed his mouth a few times before he could make a sound, "How are you, sir?"

"You mean after you nearly killed me? Fine," it wasn't his intention to be so mean but he couldn't stand Clint anymore. The sound of his voice felt like a dagger to his heart. His presence alone caused more pain than Phil thought possible.

The archer paled visibly, "That's all I wanted to know, sir. Have a nice day, sir."

"You too, specialist."

"You're an idiot," Natasha sneaked up on him while he was lost in thoughts. "What you had was special. What were you thinking throwing it away like this?"

"I don't love him," Clint walked faster in hope she would get the hint but no one was as good as Natasha where ignoring hints was concerned.

"Bullshit," she hissed, shoving him against a wall. "You were devastated when I told you he died. You were a wreck for weeks, getting yourself almost killed, twice. So don't tell me you don't love him. You broke him. You broke him and you don't even care. What can be so important that you break Coulson's heart? Do you remember how long both of you fought for each other's trust? I do. Four years. And you have nothing better to do than shatter his heart; he isn't even able to date anymore. He compares anyone he meets to you, asshole. You know, I start to believe that you're nothing more than an egomaniac. It's always about you. Your childhood, your brother, your issues, bu-hu-hu. Fix it or I have to choose between you and him, and it's not you I will choose."

"Take good care of him," Clint pushed her away and walked away; ignoring her curses and hateful words. It was better this way.

:::::::::::::::::::::

Clint slumped down on his bed; he took a deep breath and exhaled slowly to calm his nerves. "I hate my life," he mumbled. Life had been awesome with Phil by his side. The older man protected him from harm and offered him all his love. He missed Phil's strong arms around his body, his smooth voice in his ear and his heartbeat beneath his ear while they lay in bed together. Phil was the man Clint wanted to marry one day. The man he wanted to raise kids with. The man he wanted to grow old with. But life was difficult and not fair on so many levels.

Clint got up from the bed and walked over to his dresser where he kept a box beneath his clothes. He returned to the bed and opened it. The box contained among other things pictures of Phil and himself. Natasha had taken most of them during missions or their time off.

Clint loved the smile on Phil's face when he was happy and Clint despite all his self-doubts knew that he was the reason for these smiles. The archer did not doubt that Phil truly loved him. _I love you_; he could hear Phil's raspy voice inside his head. Clint caressed the picture, following the lines of Phil's face. Falling out of love was not as easy as he hoped it would be. He still loved his ex-handler as much as he did before, if not more. The pain he felt during the war as he killed his own men was nothing compared to the pain in his heart the moment Natasha told him Phil had died. The guilt was still gnawing on him, for killing his fellow agents and for 'killing' Phil. All Clint ever wanted was to protect Phil the way the older man always protected him. With all he had to give. Never thinking about himself.

Clint let out a shaky breath, "I failed." Tears dripped down on the picture, "I failed you."


	2. Chapter 2

"Hawk; in position?" Cap used the nickname Tony gave the archer the first time they met.

"Don't call me that," Clint's tone was cold. "Yes, I'm in position."

"You know the plan," Cap switched off the radio.

_Of course I know the plan. I'm not stupid. Wait, wait, wait, see target, call the boss and shoot. Simple. _"Here we go," he mumbled before he radioed Steve ten minutes later.

"Keep your eyes open, it's too easy," Steve mused out loud. "Iron Man, can you see a second team?"

"No," Iron Man flew circles over the areal they suspected the Hydra base was on. Hawkeye killed the four Hydra agents they spied and no one came out of hiding. "They might wait for us to leave."

"Hydra must have hundreds of agents if a base is around here, I don't think they wait and drink coffee until we believe they aren't here," Bruce got itchy. The big guy wanted to smash something and that soon.

"Found the entrance," Hawkeye's voice appeared in their radios. "Two miles north/east. Beneath the rock formation."

"How did you…? Know what? I don't ask," Tony was repeatedly surprised how far the archer could see.

"Smash something?" The Hulk took over and was ready to jump into a fight.

"Not yet," Clint answered. Getting on Steve's nerves, "I'm the leader in case you forgot."

"Yes sir," Clint gritted out.

"We sneak up on them and demolish their interior," Tony suggested.

"Something like that," Cap sighed barely audible. "Hawkeye stay where you are. Iron Man, Hulk, follow me. Thor should arrive any minute."

Clint had a hard time to keep his mouth shut. _I forgot I'm just human. Nothing special_. He froze as flashbacks hit him, old memories huddled together. _Clint you're special. You're skills are remarkable and even without them you'd be special to me. Because you are who you are. You're my Hawk. My Hawk. Coulson's archer. Coulson's Hawk. Hawk, love you. Be safe. _

He shook his head to clear his mind, now was not the time to dwell in the past.

"Damn..., it's a trap," Tony's tinny voice yelled.

"Told you to wait," Clint sighed while he took out the first line with an explosive arrow. "Get down." He blew up the heavy machinery that rolled in direction of Cap. It resembled a little tank.

"Nice shot, kid," Cap said while he ducked a laser beam. "Help Iron Man."

"Yes sir." Clint looked around to find a more suitable nest. "Thor is coming."

"About time," Tony grunted as a projectile hit the armor.

Thor's arrival cut the battle short as he swung his hammer and roasted weapons and agents alike. Tony planted a bomb inside the hideout and they could see the huge explosion while the Quinjet hovered in the air at a safe distance.

"That went well," Tony got out of his bumpy armor while Cap nodded with a satisfied expression on his face.

"Cupid not happy," Hulk said before he transformed back into Banner. Clint had taught his big green friend how to behave on board of small tin cans like Tony's new Quinjet.

"Don't worry big guy," Clint said with a smile even tough Banner was the one in front of him.

"You're the first person he worries about, give him some time to understand these feelings," Bruce made himself comfortable.

"I can do that."

"You have no choice," Bruce said amused. "How's Natasha?"

"Don't you think it's time to ask her out?" Clint's hand wandered to his phone, a habit he couldn't get rid of. Clint called Phil for years after solo missions and his traitorous mind constantly urged him to make an 'I'm-coming-home' call. But there was no home he could return to. All he had was gone. There was no one left who waited for him and no one would receive a call the day he finally bites the dust. Clint realized that no one would care if he died or not. His death would make a few people happy. Death should not make people happy but he was sure his would. _Phil would be relieved, Nat would go on with her life and Nick; Nick was Nick, close the file, put a stamp on it, next one please_. That was a frustrating thought. But, maybe, it was what he deserved.

"I'm the Hulk," a sad look overshadowed Bruce's pretty features.

"No," Clint shook his head. "You are you; the hulk is just a bonus. She's not as shallow as you might think with her looks and all. She likes you, very much."

"And you know that why?"

"We used to be friends," it hurt to say it out loud.

"I thought you're just co-worker."

"That too," he confirmed. "I'm a person people don't like to have around, not for long."

"Really?" Tony snorted sarcastically.

"Really," Clint knew he was hard to handle. He barely talked to them and he didn't appreciate their fighting style but they were his future. Avengers or returning to S.H.I.E.L.D.

The Avengers were the lesser of these two evils right now. And when he was honest with himself, he started to like the bunch of wackos he called his teammates.

Tony was a genius and just as nerve-racking as Clint himself. Tony loved to banter and it was quiet fun to do so, but his blows could be very low at times. Depending on his moods. Clint learned that Stark - even though he tried hard to make people believe otherwise- could be very gentle and understanding when he wanted to be.

Steve on the other hand was kind of a control freak, more so than Stark at times. He was a gentle man and very patient but in the field he could be cold. In addition to that Clint had the impression that he couldn't handle Clint's personality very well. He tried but he wasn't as successful in reading Clint as he wanted to be.

Bruce and Hulk were nice people to be around, if you could call Hulk that. Bruce was gentle and understanding, always listening whenever you had something to say. Hulk was anything but gentle but that didn't mean he did not care in his own unique way. He cradled Clint in his arms more than once after a fight. He tried to protect him and he tried to work well together with his best friend. Throwing him at enemies, catching him when his nest crumbles beneath him.

"It was a joke birdie," Tony felt the urge to make sure Clint knew that too.

"I know," he gave Tony his best shit-eating grin. "Now stop talking and fly us home."

"She likes me," Bruce muttered under his breath. "She likes me," his face lit up like the summer sun.

"Yes she does," that was the least he could do for her after all he'd done.

::::::::::::::::::::::::::

The briefing with Phil was long and strenuous. The older man tried to ignore him as best he could. Steve talked most of the time, explaining what they did and why they did what they did and who did what exactly. Clint played a damn small role in all this so Phil had no reason to address him. The friction in the air between him and Coulson was noticeable to anyone. Stark had asked him a few weeks ago why they avoided each other and what he had done to get on Coulson's bad side. Clint had flipped him off and continued avoiding Coulson.

Steve had made a few comments too about the way Coulson and Clint communicated. They were polite but their voices and expressions were frosty at best.

"Barton, wait a minute," Coulson ordered coolly as Clint got up from his chair. He let himself fall back onto his seat.

"We need to talk," Phil said after Natasha closed the door. "Natasha brought to my attention that our dispute affects the team and as liaison I can't tolerate such things."

"I understand sir." Clint swallowed the lump that formed in his throat. "I can leave within the next hour."

"I said nothing about leaving, specialist," a little frown appeared on Coulson's handsome face.

"We can't work together sir," Clint argued. "I think it's the best solution when I return to my duties at S.H.I.E.L.D., Jensen has a free spot on his team. I might get my own black ops group back." He had given up black ops for Phil's sake because the older man worried nonstop whenever he was away.

"I don't think returning to your duties is the best solution," Phil knew about Clint's dreams. The archer always wanted to be a hero and Phil wouldn't take this away from him. "We have to learn to get along."

"I don't think that's possible sir." _Therefore I love you too much._

"Even though my feelings towards you border on hate I'm willing to try," _what are your eyes saying behind your shades?_

"Yes sir." _Please, don't make this more complicated than it already is_.

"Nice to meet you agent Barton," Phil offered his beloved asset his hand.

Clint stared at the hand for a few long seconds before he shook it, "Nice to meet you Agent Coulson sir." It was hard to keep his hand from shaking.

Phil wanted to know what the archer hid behind his shades, the archer loved wearing them but it seemed he never put them down anymore. The man in front of him was not the man he fell in love with so many years ago. He didn't even resemble the young man he recruited. This Barton was a stranger, hiding behind a wall higher than Stark Tower. _But why?_

Clint let go of Phil's warm hand, it was the first time in over two years that he didn't feel cold inside. Phil had the talent to flood his entire body with warmth that drowned out anything else. The cold inside Clint's chest was a constant companion since his mother died. Loki's mind control made it even worse. The freezing cold of the staff combined with the blizzard inside himself was mind numbing. Clint hated the cold. He spent as much time as possible somewhere where the sun was shining. But the warmth never went deeper than his skin, avoiding the depth of his body like the plague. _Phil._

"Stark invited me for dinner, I hope it's not a problem," Coulson's voice sounded accusing.

"No sir. No problem. I can stay away if you want me to."

"That would be nice," Phil suppressed the urge to reach out. Clint had betrayed him, he didn't deserve a second chance but Phil's heart seemed to think otherwise. _I miss you so_.

"Okay," Clint left with no destination in mind. _Range? O'Brian's? Home? Wherever that is_. Clint decided on the Helicarrier, his old room was still unoccupied. The weather had changed during the two hours they spent in the meeting. It was raining by now; the wind was blowing hard against Clint's cool skin while he rode his skycycle. Barton landed on deck and hurried inside. His room wasn't as unoccupied as he thought; a young woman was busy moving in and Clint decided to sleep in the vents. It was quiet up there; the soft humming of the ventilators did not count. Clint closed his eyes, letting go of the tears he held back since the meeting.

_++Dream++_

"_Clint," Phil rubbed circles over his archer's back. "I love you."_

"_Love you too Phil," Clint smiled at his lover. They got together three months ago. They loved each other for a long time but lacked the gut to act on it. A mission brought them finally together. An arms dealer captured Phil and Clint moved heaven and earth to get his handler back. He confessed his love to a barely conscious Coulson but the agent was coherent enough to remember. _

"_You're warm," his archer's skin was rarely warm. _

"_We just made love," Clint chuckled. "I think that's a very good reason to be warm."_

"_But something is different."_

"_It's you. You make the difference," the archer placed his hand on Phil's cheek. _

"_I do?"_

"_Yeah," Clint said softly. "You keep me warm from the inside out. Your love and protection keeps me warm like nothing else can." _

"_You old sap," the older agent blushed. "I just love you."_

"_No one ever loved me," maybe his mom did but she never got the chance to fulfill her duty as a mother. _

"_Hard to believe; you're an awesome person," Phil could not understand how a person like Barton could not be loved. Sure he was difficult to handle but life made him that way, there must have been a time when he had been different. No one was born this way. Phil tried to imagine young Clint with dirty blond hair and gap between his teeth. Shining blue eyes looking up in expectation. Reality replaced the cute image and his imagination ran wild. Little Clint with a bloody nose and shiner. Clint with broken bones and helpless smile. Phil blinked a few times to get rid of the pictures that circled around his mind._

"_I'm a nuisance but thank you for the compliment," the archer said amused. "I'm Clinton Francis menace Barton after all."_

"_You're exaggerating."_

_Clint raised a brow and Phil couldn't hide his grin anymore, "Okay, you are a menace but not as often as you used to be."_

"_True, you're a good influence, sir." Clint leaned forward and placed his lips on Phil's, "You're a good man."_

"_Sometimes, when I don't break bones or shoot anybody," Coulson agreed. "I'm a saint."_

_Clint laughed out loud, "You're many things but not a saint. The things you can do with your…" Phil silenced his lover with a kiss. _

_++End dream++_

Clint's eyelids flew open, he was almost hyperventilating. That was a memory he tried to bury deep inside his mind. It wasn't about the sex, it was about the closeness they shared; the love. Phil's warm body against his, the love glittering in his handler's eyes, seeping through every word he said. Clint missed that, a lot. He could talk to Phil, always and about anything he had on his mind but there were higher forces, stronger than their relationship.

Clint curled up on himself, dead tired but not ready to go back to sleep. His problem was that he had to sleep at some point so he pulled the vial out of his pocket which contained his anti nightmare pills, like he used to call them. His shrink had given them to him to get rid of the nightmares. His dead friends were hunting him at night. In his dreams Phil was not alive. He was buried six feet under on a cemetery close to NYC. His ghost was yelling at him, cursing him for his weakness. Most days Clint wished he had died instead of the people he killed. He would trade his life for the lives of his fellow agents but that was not possible and he had to learn to live with that.

Clint toyed with the pills in his hand, one would cause a dreamless sleep, two would probably knock him out for hours and ten would end his life. It was a hard tasked but he put them back into the vial, all but one. "Good night," he took the pill and closed his eyes.

:::::::::::::

"Agent Agent nice you could make it," Tony beamed. "Dinner is ready."

"Thank you," Phil smiled even though he felt guilty for Clint's absence.

"Clint can't make it tonight but I think you can live with that."

"I'll survive," Phil looked at Natasha who sat very close to Bruce. A small voice inside his head cheered that she finally took the next step. The glare she sent him was unexpected.

"Where is he?" She asked.

"I don't know," Phil shrugged.

"He said he has a date tonight and won't come home," Tony smirked naughtily.

Phil's heart clenched, he knew it was a lie but there was nothing he could do against the jealousy inside his heart.

"Date?" Natasha deadpanned, glancing at Phil. "He hasn't dated in ages."

"Explains why he won't come home tonight," Tony said lightly, sitting down next to Steve.

Phil took the empty seat next to Natasha, "Looks delicious." The Dinner reminded him of Clint's cooking skills. A slightly different variant of Clint's mom's receipt.

"How are you Phil?" Steve changed the topic; he could see that Coulson felt rather uncomfortable.

"I'm fine," Phil was thankful for the change of topic. "My shoulder is a little stiff but that will fade soon."

"I'm glad," Steve smiled. "The mission went well today and I think we should celebrate our success."

"Without Clint?" Natasha wanted to let it go but she couldn't. She had tried not to care, she had tried to push him and she had tried to figure it out but nothing put her mind at ease.

"We have fought our battle well," Thor boomed. "And we should enjoy our triumph."

"Well said my friend," Tony raised his glass.

"He should celebrate with us," she said stubbornly.

"He has better things to do than spend his night with us," Steve sounded slightly disappointed. Those words made Phil feel even guiltier.

"If you say so," she muttered. She was sure Clint's absence was tied to Phil's presence.

"At least they don't get into a fight," Bruce munched on a piece of bread.

"What?" Phil looked up from his plate.

"You're constantly fighting and it's nice for a change to spend an evening with you; without fighting. I don't know what happened but it's unnerving." Steve approached the subject further.

"We have history."

"Did he blow one of your ops? I can imagine how his big mouth and insubordination got you riled up," Tony mused.

"Agent Barton does not endanger missions with his behavior. It's smart to listen when he talks. He can see things we don't," Phil wasn't sure why he defended his ex-lover but it seemed wrong to put the blame on his skills as an asset.

"Did he steal your girlfriend?" Tony joked. His jaw dropped at the look on Phil's face, "He stole your girl? I know he can be an asshole but that is vicious."

Phil decided to remain silent. He jerked a little as Natasha's feet connected with his shin.

"I can't believe he did that," Steve sounded more disappointed than Phil had ever heard him.

"Do I have to worry?" Bruce looked at Natasha.

"No," she tried to sound as normal as possible. _That's not okay._

"Is she his date tonight?" Tony gasped as the thought occurred.

"No," Phil shook his head. "He doesn't play to keep."

Natasha had no argument to debunk their theory about Clint without telling the truth about their past relationship.

"He's a manwhore," Tony nodded to himself; there was a time he had been a 'whore' too. "Fun while you're young."

"I don't want to discuss the topic any further," Phil put his fork down. Not hungry anymore.

"I understand son of Coul, such treachery is hard to forgive and hard to discuss," Thor lowered his voice and put all his sympathy into it.

"That's enough," Steve interrupted before anyone could continue the topic. "Let us enjoy the evening."

Phil was grateful for Steve's intervention. The topic was hard to handle, especially because it was based on a lie. Clint was not a whore but he couldn't stay with one person for long. Coulson had been Clint's first real long time relationship. A fact Phil had been proud of, before the archer fled. Clint's beautiful eyes haunted his dreams since the day he left. His gentle touches; Phil always wondered how such strong hands could be so endlessly gentle. But what Phil missed most was Clint's personality; he missed the person who moved those gentle fingers over his skin; the person who smiled at him with childlike innocence.

_++Flashback++_

_"Phil," Clint peeked into Coulson's office._

_"Come in, specialist," Phil looked up from his paperwork. _

_Clint was nervous and indecisive, something was bothering his lover. "What have you done this time?"_

_A hurt look flashed through the archer's eyes, "Nothing."_

_"So why are you looking like you burned a hole into Nick's favorite coat?" _

_"I-, I- it was a bad idea, sorry," Clint got up from the couch he preferred over the chair in front of Phil's desk. _

_"Clint, wait." Phil said hastily, "I'm sorry. Please stay." _

_Clint looked at the door for a moment before he sighed and settled down on the couch again._

_"Tell me, please." _

_Clint would have smiled if he weren't so nervous. Barton was probably the only person who would ever hear Coulson say the word sorry. _

_Phil watched as Clint stood up again, pulling a box out of his vest pocket, "For you." Clint's eyes were glued to the ground while he handed Phil the box. _

_Coulson eyed it for a moment. "Thank you," he said before he opened it. Phil opened the box carefully, "Oh." The box contained a pair of silver dog tags. One tag had Phil's dates engraved and the other one Clint's. S.H.I.E.L.D. service number, date of their first meeting and their first date added to the standard information. "It's beautiful," Phil looked at Clint. "Thank you." He got up and pulled his archer into his arms, "I love you."_

_"Love you too," Clint felt the nervousness fade. He wasn't sure the gift was a good idea. Phil placed a firm kiss on Clint's temple, "Did I miss something?" _

_"It's our first anniversary," Clint wasn't angry. Fury dumped a lot of work on Phil and the older agent had barely time to take a break. Clint made sure his handler got enough to eat and juice. Phil's coffee intake was more than alarming. _

_Phil tightened his embrace, "I'm so sorry. I totally forgot…."_

_"Don't worry about it," Clint assured. "We can celebrate after the job is done."_

_"I treat you to dinner," Phil made up his mind. "And then I'll get you a new bow." There was a sports outfitter not far from Clint's favorite restaurant. _

_"You don't need to buy stuff for me," Clint felt uncomfortable._

_"But I want to," Phil whispered against Clint's ear, sending a shiver down his spine. "I know how much you love 'real' bows and not the high-tech monstrosities R&amp;D provides. They might let me engrave my serial number." _

_Clint beamed like a child at Christmas. It was Phil's favorite smile, the one that made Clint look like a huge child, innocent and vulnerable. It wasn't his beaming I-twist-the-mark-around-my-finger type of smile Phil hated so much. The smile was honest and came from the heart._

_++End flashback++_

"Are you alright Agent Agent?"

"I'm fine," Phil lied with ease. "I was thinking about Fury's plan to found more special groups like the Avengers."

"I don't think we need more independent groups, the risk is high that we get in each other's way. I mean we have the fantastic four, Xavier and his men aren't far in case we need them. Let alone all the groups we don't know of yet." Tony stated his opinion and Phil had to agree with Stark for once. Others did not; that's why Coulson spent the next three hours and forty-two minutes discussing a plan Fury had voiced while drunk.

::::::::::::::::::

"One of our janitors found our Hawkeye sleeping in the vent." Fury pointed with his fork at Phil, "He was out like a light."

"That's odd. He's a light sleeper."

"So it's odd that he got caught but not that he slept there?" Nick put a piece of potato into his mouth.

Phil bit into his sandwich to avoid Fury's question a little longer. "It's not the first time."

"I know but he stopped sleeping there around the time he broke up with you."

"You know about it? Of course you know," Phil muttered.

"I'm worried about him," Nick had information about Clint he did not like but he couldn't do anything about it.

"I'm not," the archer looked fine.

"He will leave in two days. I thought you might want to take the chance to... talk."

"Leaving?" Phil looked up, not hiding his surprise.

"Something came up," Nick shrugged.

"He's an Avenger," Coulson frowned.

"First and foremost he's an agent of S.H.I.E.L.D. I will never let the kid go, he's under my protection and nothing he does will ever change my mind." Fury considered Clint a friend, the archer was troublesome but one of the best and most loyal agents he ever had. He trusted Clint and Loki's attack didn't change anything.

"You still trust him?"

"With my life," Nick confirmed. "It was not his doing; I think _nothing_ was his doing."

Phil didn't understand why Fury stressed the 'nothing' so much, of course it was not Clint's idea to blow up their base and Helicarrier, but he had a god inside his mind, which probably left unforeseeable marks on the archer. "I can't trust him anymore," Coulson confessed.

Nick huffed barely audible, there was nothing he could say to make Phil feel better. "I have to go. I meet with the world security council."

"Again? What do they want now?"

"Something I don't agree with," Nick said cryptically while he grabbed his tray. "See ya."

"Till later then," Phil shoved his food from one side of the plate to the other. I _don't care about his assignment. I stopped caring the day he left. I don't care, I-don't-care. Heck,...,_ he buried his face in his hands.


	3. Chapter 3

"Why is he leaving?" Tony watched Clint enter the Quinjet Fury had sent to pick up the archer.

"I don't know," Steve frowned. "He said Fury had a mission that acquired his skills."

"I thought he's one of us," Tony felt his stomach churn at the thought that Clint might not come back from this one. As a team they fought side by side, taking care of each other. The thought of Clint god knows where with people he didn't know did not agree with him.

"He is," Steve watched the Quinjet sped away. "He'll come back. Right, Phil?"

Coulson hid his troubled gaze behind his shades, for the first time in months he felt something close to worry for Clint. Putting them on the same team had not been Fury's brightest idea. At first Phil thought it was because the Avengers trusted him but he wasn't so sure anymore about Nick's intention. "Depends on Fury," _and the outcome of the mission. _

"But he's an avenger now," Tony pouted.

"He's an agent and will always be. Fury does not let go of good agents, especially Barton." _There was a time I would have fought teeth and nail to keep him where he belongs_.

"Can't he be both?" Steve looked at Phil. "I mean an agent within the Avengers, and not … doing missions for Fury _and_ us, separated."

"We need people with his skill set," Phil argued. "He's valuable for both sides."

Steve nodded while Tony pouted. Coulson looked at the bright blue sky, "Do you truly need him?"

"Not again," Tony's groaned.

"It's not about me and Barton. I've got the impression that you don't value him very much."

"He's our friend," Steve was faster than Tony who intended to say the same.

"Your friend, yes. But your teammate? I don't know."

"He's a member of my team," Steve sounded slightly angry at Phil's accusation.

"You don't listen to him when he has something to say. You don't ask for his opinion. You leave him high up in his nest to keep him away from the battle itself. You don't grant him his freedom in the field. I know he's a sniper, he can lie still for days but he isn't useless when it comes to hand to hand combat. I mean you don't let him near you; always keeping him at arm's length. Be it in the field or in private."

"He doesn't want to bond," Tony shrugged. This was not entirely true; the archer did try to bond but on his own pace.

"Have you any idea how long I needed to gain his trust?"

They shook their heads, no.

"Four years," _thanks Natasha for reminding me_. "He's like a scared toddler in this regard."

"Four years?" Tony's brows rose. "I don't want to wait four years."

"I can see that he likes you, and I'm surprised how fast you became friends but his heart does not trust you enough to make you family."

"Have you been his family?" Steve asked, all anger forgotten.

"Yes," the admission burned a hole into his heart. Clint had been his everything. Phil planned to propose but Clint ended their relationship before he got the chance. He still owned the ring he bought back then. Phil tried to throw it away many times but he couldn't. His hand had hovered over the trash bin, ring in his fist. But he couldn't open his hand. He couldn't let go. The necklace Clint gave him for their first anniversary was still around his neck, hidden by his dress shirt. Phil had locked the necklace away but the dresser he hid the tags in pulled him closer like a magnet, every time he passed it. So he gave up the struggle and decided to get rid of the ring and tags when he was finally able to let go. It didn't work the way he hoped it would.

"It's his own fault," Steve shook his head in disappointment. "He threw away the best friend a man can wish for." Rogers was glad he could call Coulson his friend. The agent was honest and his beliefs were more than pure.

"He never learned to be around the same people for more than a few years," _why am I protecting him? Stupid._

"Wait and see," Tony grinned. "He will not leave us. I'll steal your agent away."

"Good luck with that," Phil gave him a wicked grin before he turned around and left the roof. He had an appointment with agent thirteen.

"I think Coulson misses him," Steve said more to himself than Tony.

"Clint must have ripped his heart out. It's not easy to lose your girl and friend at the same time."

Steve sighed, remembering Barney; and his soon to be wife, "It's hell."

Tony put a hand on Steve's broad shoulder and guided him inside the Tower.

::::::::::::

Clint returned one month and three weeks later. He sneaked into the Tower in the middle of the night and asked Jarvis not to inform the team. Clint needed time to himself; he wasn't ready to face his friends. The mission had been torture. He infiltrated a special group of the CIA, who worked against the law. Selling information to the highest bidder, killing fellow agents to keep their existence a secret. It wasn't easy but did not take as much time as he thought. Clint's unconventional behavior and fake reputation as an effective troublemaker gained their trust in no time.

Clint crawled into his bed, not bothering to undress. His side ached a little where a knife had graced his skin. It wasn't deep enough to require stitches but large enough to burn. In addition to that he spotted a nice shiner where the elbow of a CIA agent had hit him.

Barton took one of his pills just to make sure. He felt like he could sleep ages without medication but he feared the dreams and hoped the pill would keep them at bay until his body got enough time to rest.

"We should visit Fury again," Tony decided. "He's gone for almost two months. Something is not right."

"We could," Bruce began as Jarvis interrupted him.

"Master Barton returned last night," Clint asked him not to tell them but Jarvis decided that enough time had passed.

"He's here?" Coulson heard himself say. He walked into the communal floor the moment Jarvis informed them that Clint had returned.

"He's still asleep," Jarvis added.

"How is he?" Tony asked with worry in his tone.

"Life signs are stable; his heartbeat is a little too fast."

"He has a nightmare," Phil took a cup of coffee, pretending not to care. "Don't wake him if you want to walk away unharmed."

"But we can't just stand by and watch while he suffers," Bruce chimed up. It felt not right to let Barton sleep under such conditions.

"Let agent Coulson handle him," Natasha strolled into the living room dressed in one of Bruce's large shirts and shorts.

Phil shot her a glare that would have made other people cry, but Natasha was Natasha and immune against such glares. "I don't think that's a wise idea."

"I agree with him on this one," Tony imagined how Clint broke Coulson's nose or how Coulson throttled Clint before he could land a hit.

"Phil," her tone softened. She was angry at Clint; that was out of question, but they were both unhappy with the situation and she hoped they could, somehow, reconnect.

He rolled his eyes, "Okay." Phil walked to Clint's room and hesitated a moment before he opened the door. Clint made himself as small as possible, Phil could see a sheen of sweat on his skin as the light from the corridor illuminated the archer. Whatever he was dreaming of it was terrible. Phil moved closer but stopped as a soft, "Phil", escaped Clint's lips.

Coulson waited, not sure if Clint was awake or still asleep. After two more minutes and three, "Phil," and one, "sorry," he came to the conclusion that Clint was talking in his sleep.

"Agent Barton." he placed a hand on Clint's cheek. He used to do this while they were together. "Wake up, agent."

Clint didn't stir but continued to whimper and mumble incomprehensibly.

"Barton," Phil put more pressure on the cheek. "Clint?" He frowned, switching on the light. Clint's black eye stood out from his pale face. _That must have been a strong perp_, he winced inwardly in sympathy. There was an orange vial on the nightstand and Phil picked it up. "Oh," he put the vial back on the nightstand and decided to take the risk and shake Clint. His hand wandered to Clint's shoulder and he braced himself for the possibility of violence that could follow. Phil shook him rather gentle at first, then more forcefully. Clint opened his eyes faster than Phil had ever seen and shied away from the touch. Curling up on himself on the other side of the bed, squeezing his eyes shut.

"Clinton?" Phil approached him again, waiting for a reaction. _He hates medications?!_ "Are you awake?"

"Don't know…," Clint breathed heavily. Was Phil real? Was he one of his hallucinations? The ghost he feared most? "Don't know…"

"You are awake, agent," Phil sat down on the bed, unsure what to do next. "Want to talk about it?"

Clint shook his head, he wasn't ready. His demons were his and his alone. It was the punishment he had to endure for taking their lives.

"Okay," Phil's voice returned to his usual cool tone. "See you later, agent." He stared at Clint's back, waiting for a reply. _You're still in uniform. Must have been one hell of a mission. _Phil took a deep breath before he reached out for the doorknob, "Do you need anything?"

"Salvation," he whispered, taking Coulson by surprise.

"I will listen to you this once," the older agent offered. _What happened?_

"I don't want to talk," Clint sounded more coherent. _Why is Phil here?_

Phil wanted to leave but something kept him inside Clint's room, his legs refused to work. "Get up, shower and we meet in thirty." He waited for Clint to move but the archer remained unmoving. He sighed with annoyance and pulled Clint forcefully into a sitting position. Phil got rid of Clint's vest and undershirt. It was a hard task, old memories about Clint and his beautiful body flooded his mind. Clint was still too high from his pill and exhaustion that he didn't even try to resist. "Get up," Phil ordered, frowning as he caught sight of the large cut on Clint's side. "Knife?"

Clint nodded barely visible. After a hard stare from his ex-handler he got out of his pants. The towel Phil threw at him hit him in the face, his reflexes were slow and he wasn't fast enough the catch it in time. "Shower," Phil pointed at the bathroom door. Clint obeyed.

Phil sat down on the bed waiting for Clint to finish his shower. To see Clint this way hurt; and it shouldn't. Not after such a long time. The look in Clint's normally expressive eyes was scary. His eyes looked haunted. _I don't care_, Phil chided himself, _I don't care. Heck, … I do_. _Why do I care? I don't want to. He doesn't deserve it… Old habits die hard, that's it. _

Clint emerged from the bathroom fifteen minutes later; he didn't take a change of clothes with him so he had no choice but wrap the large towel around his hips, and a smaller one around his shoulders, and pray that Phil was gone. No such luck. His ex-handler sat on the bed and picked him apart with his eyes. Clint felt uncomfortable, _please go_, he grabbed a few clothes and hissed as the wound on his elbow stung.

"Barton?" Phil's voice was alert. There were droplets of blood on Clint's arm.

"I slipped and hit my elbow on the tile," the archer shrugged while he hurried back into the bathroom.

_Slipped? You? You do not 'slip' in the shower, not… his medication. _Phil reached out and took the orange bottle with Clint's pills. _That's probably the good stuff_. _The name sounds familiar_. Phil looked from the bottle to the nightstand, _should I?_ He battled with himself for a second before he opened the drawer. Two more bottles lay in there. Phil took pictures of them with his Smartphone before he placed them back where they belonged.

"I'm ready sir." Clint stood in the doorway, dressed in sweatpants and a ratty shirt. Phil wasn't sure if Clint wasn't coherent enough to know where the shirt came from or if the archer intended to taunt him. It was Phil's old shirt, with the Rangers label and his name on the back. It was a gift from his teammates when he left the army. Phil had searched for his shirt many times and to see Clint wear it made his hurt jump with an unreasonable sense of joy. _I don't want to care_, he reminded himself but his weak attempts to convince himself failed more and more.

"Come," Phil hurried out of the room. Clint grabbed his sweatshirt and followed him in silence with lowered head. The archer stumbled when they left the elevator. Phil acted on instinct and steadied the archer; the contact sent a shiver down his spine. Clint looked so vulnerable and out of it that it tore on Phil's heart. Clint had broken his heart in the worst way possible but he didn't deserve that. No matter what he tried to make himself believe.

"Phil?" Steve looked up from his book and frowned. Tony stopped the movie he was watching together with Natasha. Bruce hid in his lab and Thor was off world to visit his brother.

Natasha narrowed her eyes, "What happened?" _It must be something terrible the way Coulson behaves_, she thought. Coulson's hand was still around Clint's upper arm and Phil didn't look like he intended to break said arm. The touch wasn't intimate either but kind of promising.

"I'd like to know that too." Phil let go of Clint and sat down next to Natasha, "He's not in the condition to work for a while."

"I agree," Steve studied his young friend. The black eye made him angry at whoever hit the archer and he was angry at Clint for keeping so many secrets.

Clint's eyes widened, "No work?"

"You're high as a kite," Phil deadpanned. His gaze wandered to Clint's elbow. The cut was small and clean but it would sting for a while. _He could have broken his neck; with me next door._

Clint lowered his gaze again he wasn't feeling strong enough to play the tough guy. He just wanted to crawl back into his bed and sleep, preferably forever.

"Give us one good reason not to ground you for a while," Steve's gaze reminded Clint of his father when he realized that Clint had done something he shouldn't have. The only difference was that Steve wouldn't hit him until he bled.

Clint remained silent.

"Has it something to do with your mission?" Natasha pushed.

Clint did not reply.

"Is it related to Loki's attack?" Tony tried his luck.

Barton's eyes flickered for a brief moment but his mouth was sealed.

"So it has something to do with Loki," Phil mused out loud. "It wasn't your fault he used you like a toy."

Clint felt sick, a toy that was exactly what he was. A toy. He was Loki's toy, S.H.I.E.L.D.'s toy, Steve's toy soldier and …, _stop thinking_. "I killed people I wasn't supposed to kill," he finally answered. "I wasn't supposed to kill Coulson, Clements, Evaristo, Lee and all the others. I failed them and I have to live with that,"

"Can you live with it?" Steve's gaze softened.

"Yes," they believed him; he could see it in their eyes. Only Phil and Natasha looked unconvinced. _I can't live with what I've done._ _They were innocent, my friends, and comrades. _

"You didn't kill him," Natasha reminded. "He's right here."

"Is he?" Clint's voice was so soft they almost missed that he said anything. "I'm glad Agent Coulson survived the attack I organized," his voice was stronger.

"Barely," the words left Phil's mouth before he could stop himself. It wasn't the right time for his private vendetta against Barton.

"I am sorry, sir." Clint said honest, "It wasn't my intention to get anyone killed. All I ever wanted was to protect people I care for."

"Sure," Phil felt anger bubble under the surface. "You don't care Barton. You never cared. All you care for is your own pitying self. You're not made to be a family's man, or long time friend. You're always on the run. Running from yourself, running from people who could like you back. Do you know what the saddest thing is?"

Clint shook his head, he didn't know.

Tony tried to stop Coulson but the agent was unimpressed, "One day you will die alone. No one will care, no one will cry. You'll be gone and no one remembers." It was one of the things Phil had thought about at the hospital and he came to the conclusion that even though he was a workaholic he had people who would mourn him. Nick, Jasper, Maria, Natasha and many more.

"I don't care," he didn't want to die alone.

"When did you stop caring?" Natasha glared, "I remember a time you where scared of dying and being forgotten."

"Death is death. We all die, sooner or later," he said nonchalantly; gathering all his strength to sound strong and uncaring.

"You're so jaded," she gritted her teeth. She couldn't read Clint like she used to. Natasha had no idea if he was lying or not. "I don't know you anymore."

"You never knew me in the first place," he shot back; hitting her hard. "I'm going back to bed," he announced as the silence grew too heavy for him to bear. With a sloppy wave he turned around and left.

"Clint," Tony called out but he ignored his friend. He was too tired for this shit. He was too tired to think, to breathe and even to live. Clint wanted his nightmare to end but he couldn't; he had something to fight for and he would not go before he was sure his loved ones were safe.


	4. Chapter 4

They left him behind for weeks, he knew they worried about him and their decision had nothing to do with his lack of motivation. Nick on the other hand had tons of work for him. Clint was barely at the Tower but no one asked questions. They thought he was pouting, hiding from them like a stubborn child. No one noticed the way he moved after two weeks of absence, no one noticed the wince every time he turned his upper body a certain way after one week of absence, no one noticed the pain in his eyes after three days of absence.

Clint felt lonely but it was better that way. Natasha avoided him, Phil pretended he didn't exist and the rest of the team had no clue how to behave around him. They didn't dare to ask; when they finally did, they got no answer. Clint knew he didn't make it easy for them to show that they try to care but there was no reason for him to open up. When he was honest with himself he was scared to let them in. Breaking up with Phil was the hardest thing he ever did, he regretted his choice deeply. He had asked himself if there had been another way. A way he overlooked but he came to the same conclusion over and over again; leaving Phil was the best choice.

What Clint didn't know was that Phil started keeping tabs on him after his second away mission. The older agent could see the pain the archer was in and wondered what his ex-asset was doing while they weren't looking. He didn't get much information, for some reason his missions were even for him too secret. His first destination three days after Clint's nightmare had been medical where he looked for a doctor who was ready to help him with a 'case'. He asked the doctor about three medications he found in the house of a missing agent. The first was an antidepressant and the second were antipsychotic agents. Phil was surprised about the strange combination of these medicaments but S.H.I.E.L.D. was famous for mixing their own stuff so it was probably okay to take these meds together; with sleeping pills on top of that. To Phil's surprise the sleeping pills weren't real sleeping pills. The medication was used to treat nightmares. The doctor assured him that it wasn't rare to combine them, the shrinks had tested them and their pharmacists took care of the rest. Phil wasn't reassured, not in the least but he had to accept what the shrinks thought was best for Clint. He wanted to know why he got them but he lost his right to ask for this kind of information the day their ways parted, the only way he had to get information was tricking medical.

Phil tried to get his hands on Clint's medical file but the file was incomplete. Two and a half years were missing. He couldn't deny anymore that he worried about his ex-boyfriend, something was not alright but he had no idea what exactly. Phil was sure Clint was not part of black ops anymore but the missions he took had an even higher classification. Barton was in trouble and there was nothing Phil could do about it. He still loved Clint, no matter how angry he was at him.

Phil tried to approach Fury and the director told him about Clint's trouble with Loki and Coulson's alleged death. Phil got the impression that his 'death' had hit the archer very hard, even though he said otherwise. It seemed Clint was not as unaffected as he wanted Phil to believe. The question was what caused Barton to turn his back on them. Was it possible that Clint loved him after all?

"Barton," Phil caught Clint on his way to the Quinjet.

"Yes sir?" Clint was not in the mood to deal with Phil.

"New mission?" Phil tried to sound monotone.

"Yes sir."

"Where are you going?"

"Classified sir. Don't take the trouble to give me the impression that you care, it's not necessary,"

"I don't care, agent. I'm suspicious," Coulson crossed his arms in front of his chest.

"I don't do something illegal. Not more than usual," Clint shrugged. "See you around sir."

"How long?" Phil couldn't stop himself from asking, he got used to Clint's presence again and it was hard to let him go again. Coulson hated it when Clint was around him but at the same time he loved it in a sick and twisted way. It proved that he was far away from letting the archer and their lost relationship go.

"I don't know sir." Clint was honest; he had no idea how long the mission would take. "I have no say in this."

"What do you mean?" Phil frowned and a small smile tugged on the corner of Clint's lip. He loved Phil's little frown when he was confused.

"I'm a toy, nothing more nothing less."

"Throwing my words back at me agent?" Phil unsuccessfully tried to keep his anger out of his voice.

"No, you were right."

The honesty in Clint's voice took Phil by surprise, "Is that what you think about yourself?"

"What else could I be?" Clint looked briefly at the pilot of the Quinjet who called out for him to hurry up. "I have to go sir. Take care of yourself."

Phil was speechless and Clint had left before he remembered how to use his vocal chords. _What happened to you? Who or what is wearing you out?_

::::::::::::::::::::

Phil argued with himself for hours, waiting for Clint on the roof of HQ or pretending not to care? He walked a few times in direction of the roof just to turn around to walk back to his office. A few agents gave him questioning looks while he walked around like a headless chicken. What made him finally decide was Fury's call to inform him that Clint's Quinjet would land in seven minutes. The urge to make sure the archer was alright was stronger than his anger.

Clint looked like hell, tired and worn out. Barton stopped as he caught sight of Phil, he was glad his shades hid the surprise in his eyes. _What is he doing here?_

"How was the mission agent?"

"Tiring," Clint slung his bag over his shoulder. "What are you doing here sir?"

"I'm here to accompany you to the Avenger tower. In case you forgot you're still one of us."

"I remember," Clint deadpanned. He wasn't too happy about it though, he wanted to be independent. Clint felt trapped but had no idea what to do about it. Running was not an option but his problem was that this was his only option, so he stayed and did what they expected him to do. Follow their orders.

"Do you intend to stand there all day?" Phil let his annoyance into his voice.

"No, sir," Clint readjusted the weight of his bag and followed his former handler to the parking lot. The archer wasn't surprised that Coulson chose his SUV instead of Lola. Clint knew he lost the privilege to touch her the day he left.

The drive was silent and for both men uncomfortable. The silence was awkward but they had no idea how to break the silence. There was a time they would have talked about the mission, the future and their plans for the day.

"Get yourself cleaned up and meet us in an hour. The communal floor will do," Phil got out of the car and headed for the elevator, not waiting for Clint.

The archer did as he was told and took his time. He didn't want to meet with them. He could imagine their accusing glares, disappointed looks and their awkward attempt to offer help.

Clint looked at his watch, two minutes left; he sighed heavily and walked down to the communal floor, taking the stairs instead of the elevator. The walls were closing in and there was nothing he could do about it. It was all too much. Phil, his guilt, all the missions for both sides he had to take, the attention he got from his friends.

"Nice to see you again," Tony greeted in a rather cool tone of voice. "Where have you been?"

"Working," Clint said, avoiding Tony's eyes.

"Working?" Steve narrowed his eyes. "Don't tell me you had no time to come home."

"Actually, it's the truth," Phil entered with Natasha in tow. "Fury used the chance to hand him around while we grounded him."

"Don't make him sound like a prostitute," Bruce sipped his coffee.

"I am what they need me to be," Clint shrugged. He had to use his body to get a job done a few times, he hated it. "Haven't done it for a while now," he added as Bruce stared at him with wide eyes.

"You're a whore?" Tony blurted out in disbelieve.

"Sometimes."

"He's not a whore," Phil's protective streak kicked in, surprising them with the determination in his voice. "He's a talented agent."

"He's a whore," Steve glared at Phil. "Selling your body to get a job done is not alright."

"I know that," Phil said monotone. "But sometimes it's necessary for the benefit of mankind."

"And what's with Clint's?" Steve pushed.

"Pawn sacrifice."

Steve looked like he wanted to hit Phil. Clint felt honored to have Steve's sympathy but Phil's words made him feel sick, drowning out anything else. _Here we go again. Barton the toy soldier. _Deep inside he knew Phil just said the truth, agents and assets were just pawns on the play-board of life. When Fury said jump they jumped asking how high, if he said die they died. It wasn't that simple but that was the basic principle.

Clint remembered how one of these missions almost broke Natasha. She felt dirty and shied away from his touches for weeks. It was a hard piece of work to put her back together.

Phil had sold himself for Clint's sake once too. A few years back Coulson seduced an arms dealer to free Barton. Clint had been angry at Phil for doing something so stupid. He was thankful that Coulson got him out of the mess he maneuvered himself into but the price was too high. Phil was an agent, a handler; not a simple field agent. His kidnappers had no chance once Coulson got the information he needed. The arms dealer didn't see another day and his minions had to face Coulson's back up team. The rescue mission had been fast and dirty.

_+++Flashback+++_

_Clint made it his mission to find his handler after medical released him. He had seen Phil once in a drug induced haze and that was rather odd because Coulson always made sure he was alright and kept him company as often as he could. Clint's first destination was Coulson's office; to his surprise the older man was not there. He looked everywhere but there was no trace of his friend. His last hope was Phil's apartment so he leaped onto his bike and drove off. The ride was due to his injuries not comfortable and soothing like it used to be but he was faster. He didn't like cabs and walking was not an option, Coulson's flat was too far away to walk over there. _

_Clint got on top of the building opposite Phil's and he watched the apartment for a while. There was the light on in the living room and once in a while he could see a shadow move around. Barton decided to avoid the concierge and knocked on the window. _

_He knocked a few times before he broke into Phil's apartment. The older agent didn't seem surprised to see him. He probably knew who was the one knocking. _

"_Sir?" Clint sat down on the ground in front of Phil's couch, looking up at his handler who sat on the sofa. Coulson's eyes looked haunted and there was something else he couldn't figure out. "How are you?" The silence was unsettling._

"_Fine," Phil said emotionless._

"_Don't lie to me sir. I know what you did for me," the archer's voice was full of sorrow. "Not doing anything would have been okay too." _

"_They would have killed you," he finally looked Clint in the eye. He loved Barton's expressive eyes. _

"_He tainted you," Clint wished he could resurrect the guy and kill him slowly. _

"_We didn't have sex."_

"_Doesn't matter. It's bothering you… You're hurting. That tells me that the price you paid was far too high." Clint reached out for Phil's hand, waiting for a sign that his touch would be accepted. Phil moved his hand a few inches in Clint's direction that was all the archer needed to take Phil's hand into his own. "I'm thankful sir, but I feel guilty for what you have to endure. You're not a whore; it's not your job to use your body this way."_

_Phil let out a snort, "You make me sound like I'm better than you."_

"_Because you are."_

_Phil was shocked to see that Clint truly meant what he said, there was just honesty in his eyes and a childlike vulnerability on his handsome face, "I'm not, Barton." Clint's expression didn't change but a hint of disbelief appeared for a second in his eyes. _

"_You are a precious person," Phil tried to make his point clear. _

"_I'm not here to get moral support," the archer smiled gently. "I'm here to offer you my help."_

"_But…"_

"_No but, sir." Clint squeezed Phil's hand, "I'm here to listen and to help as best I can."_

_Phil's eyes mirrored the sadness he felt. He felt sorry for himself and he felt bad for his archer. Clint's self-esteem was never healthy but Phil had no idea how bad it truly was. "I feel dirty," Coulson confessed._

"_Come with me," Clint got up and guided his handler to the bathroom. "Give me a few minutes." Phil watched how Clint went into the living room and vanished through the window. Phil looked through his dressers for clothes he felt comfortable in. He chose his favorite shirt; it was a gift from his old team in the military, and his favorite sweatpants. _

"_Good choice," Clint's voice startled him. "Sorry, sir," Clint felt bad for scaring his handler. _

_Phil gave him a brief smile, avoiding Clint's gaze. _

"_Come," Clint put his hand on Phil's shoulder and pushed him gently into the bathroom. "I got you a few toiletries," Clint went to the drugstore nearby. "They do nothing against what happened and they don't erase the memories but I … they make me feel relaxed and kind of comfortable… and I hope they might help you too." _

_Phil knew Clint had a lot to endure in his life, and it was a huge gesture for Clint to share his coping strategies with him. "Do you mean smells I consider pleasant ease the filthy feeling?"_

"_Yes," Clint nodded. "It helps me; and time of course, so I don't know it's useful for you but I hope it offers at least some comfort." _

"_Thank you," Phil took the plastic bag Clint held out. The archer nodded once and left the bathroom to grant Phil his space._

_Coulson got undressed and turned on the shower; it wasn't the first time he showered that day. He watched how the steam fogged the mirror and knew the temperature was too hot but he didn't care. Before he stepped into the shower he emptied the bag. Shampoo with melissa, shower gel with cedar wood, body lotion with bergamot, deodorant with lemongrass and patchouli scented oil. Phil chuckled softly; it seemed Clint couldn't decide which smells Phil preferred. To be honest Phil wasn't sure himself so he sniffed on anything and to his surprise he used all of them. It didn't wash the feeling of the marks touches away but his soul calmed down a little. After his shower he slipped into his favorite clothes and for the first time in many days he felt safe. He felt slightly guilty for behaving that way it wasn't as if he was raped. They had just touched and kissed, and touched some more. Now he had a vague idea how the poor women felt who fell prey to a pervert. Crucial for his sense of safety was Barton next door. The archer would keep him safe, help him cope whatever it takes. _

"_Hey," Clint wore a comforting smile. "I thought you might be hungry," Clint stirred the sauce for the pasta he made. There wasn't much food around but Clint was used to improvise with what little he had. _

"_Smells delicious," Phil looked over Clint's shoulder. "How do you feel?"_

"_Better," that was the truth. "Thank you."_

"_You're welcome," Clint winced as he turned his head too much to the right._

"_Still in pain?" Phil placed his hand on Clint's cheek studying the look in his eyes. _

_Clint leaned into the touch, "Sore." _

"_Be honest with me," Phil's hand wandered down, probing the wounds he knew Clint had. The archer winced at almost every touch, "You're not fine."_

"_It's just my body, the wounds will heal. I'm more worried about your wounds," Clint caressed Phil's cheekbone with his knuckles. The touch sent a shiver down Phil's spine, he loved his asset by far more than he should and he knew Clint was attracted to him too. They danced around each other for years. _

"_I will be fine as long as you're around," Phil rested his forehead against Clint's chest. It wasn't his intention to put so much meaning behind his words but what's done is done. _

_He got the answer he hoped for when Clint put his arms around him, holding him close and whispering comforting words. _

_+++End flashback+++_

"I'm tired," Clint felt emotionally drained. "Can I leave now?"

"We just started," Phil snarled still irritated from his discussion with Steve. "Sit down."

"Yes sir." Clint slumped down on the couch, drawing up his knees and putting his arms around them.

Natasha sat down next to him, questioning him with her gaze but Barton ignored her. He wasn't ready to say anything.

"Are you alright?" Steve asked, Clint's posture reminded him of a lost child. "Are you hurt?"

"No sir." _Not this time, well, not much anyway_.

"I can see that you're not okay," Steve pushed further.

"I'm tired."

"You don't look tired," Tony crossed his arms in front of his chest. "You look like someone drove over your puppy."

"I'm just overworked," Clint decided to stick with his story.

"Tell us," Natasha changed her tactic. "What do they make you do?"

"Classified."

"Don't tell me it's classified. We are your team, you always told us about your missions, so open your fucking mouth and spill it," she raged. They stared at Clint waiting for an answer.

Their gazes made him feel uncomfortable. He could feel the tears burning in his eyes but he couldn't let them fall. His tears would cause questions and that was something he tried to avoid at all cost.

"Clint?" Phil's voice broke through his raging thoughts. His voice was unusually concerned.

"Yes sir?"

"Do you want to talk? Just you and me?" The more time he spent with the archer, observing him, the more it troubled him to keep his negative feelings upright. His anger faded sometimes and turned into sadness. He felt like they just broke up.

_YES_, "No sir. I have nothing to say."

"Barton," Natasha warned but the buzzing of Clint's phone interrupted her speech.

"Yes sir?" Clint answered his phone, his posture stiffened. "Yes sir. I'm on my way sir." Clint put his phone away with a heavy sigh.

"Who was that?" Steve narrowed his eyes.

"Johnson," Clint winced as he let the name slip. He cursed himself for opening his mouth, maybe it was a subliminal cry for help; his soul's way to beg for someone to figure it out.

"Johnson?" Phil frowned, "World security council?"

"Yes," Clint nodded. "He asked for a favor."

"Why should he ask you for a favor?" Phil sounded meaner than he intended to be.

"We met during a meeting way back when I was still with black ops," Clint hoped they wouldn't ask more questions.

"How often does he ask for favors?" Steve didn't like to share the archer.

"Not often," that was a lie and Clint wasn't sure he was convincing. "I have to go."

"For how long this time? You just returned from a mission," Bruce asked, looking at Natasha. He knew how hard it was for his girlfriend to lose the archer more and more.

"I don't know," Clint hoped it was a short mission.

Phil pursed his lips, "You can't be part of this team when you're never around. You have to decide who you want to be; an Agent or a hero."

Clint looked at his friends and was shocked as he realized that they seemed to agree with Coulson on this one. He felt his tears return and rubbed his eyes to get rid of them, "I have to go." He could hear people calling his name but he didn't listen. He had to get away.


	5. Chapter 5

His mission was worse than the others but he didn't dare to complain. Johnson was mighty and could liquidate him in a blink of an eye. He hated this man but there was nothing he could do to get away from him.

After the mission was done Clint snuck into the tower in the middle of the night, grabbing his stuff before he snuck out again. He ordered Jarvis to keep his artificial mouth shut.

"Fury says he returned three days ago," Phil had a long talk with Nick about Clint and Johnson. Nick said Johnson was not trustworthy and the worst of them all. The guy tried to gain more influence and aroused suspicion more than once with his scheming and ruthless behavior. Why Clint was involved with him was a riddle to both of them. Nick only knew that Johnson started to ask for Clint years ago, he wanted no one else, just Barton. Fury had confronted him about his dealing with Johnson but the archer was unusually terse.

Tony had enough and walked straight to Barton's room, storming inside. "Barton?"

The bed was made and it looked like no one lived in there for a while. Phil looked around, opening the dresser as his gut told him that Clint might have run. He was right. "He's gone."

"What?" Steve gasped. "What do you mean?"

"I made him choose and he did. He chose S.H.I.E.L.D.," Phil felt bad for what he'd said. He knew it wasn't fair and that Clint liked being a hero. _It was his dream after all. I took it away from him... He made the decision. It was his choice. _

"Where is he?" Steve sounded worried; he knew about most parts of Clint's past and was scared the kid was back on the streets.

"I guess he returned home," Phil hoped the archer didn't run for good. He couldn't lose him; he needed him around even if they couldn't be together anymore.

"Where is his apartment? I let Jarvis check on him," Tony seemed nervous.

"Room 21, section C on the Helicarrier."

"He lives on this… flying coffin?" Tony was shocked, that was no place to live.

"He likes it there," Phil needed a long time to understand why and the truth about Barton's way of thinking was more than disturbing. His room was his little nest, between hundreds of agents. He felt safe there, like nothing bad could happen there. Phil wondered if Clint still felt that way since Loki blew up half the ship, or rather Clint did.

"Are the chambers comfortable?" Steve asked interested. The boy deserved comfort.

"Bed, dresser, desk, chair," Phil shrugged. Barton was not in the position to get one of the big rooms. They were reserved for the director, Hill and people as high in rank as Phil.

Tony groaned, "The day he moved in with us must have felt like a dream. That explains why he moved in with just one duffle bag in hand."

"He doesn't need much," Phil remembered the day they moved in together. Clint moved in with a bag of clothes and his favorite bows. All they had belonged to Phil and that was alright for Clint. For some reasons Phil never truly understood why it was enough for Clint to share Phil's stuff. The archer loved Phil's couch and his world's best uncle mug. The purple cereal bowl was unofficially Clint's after the third day just like the right side of the bed. Phil had changed nothing after their breakup. The bowl was still on its rightful place, the right side of the bed was still Clint's. The mug his niece gave him years ago was securely locked in one of the cabinets. "Even with his paycheck he never stopped being modest. He earns a lot of money but you could think he's poor, counting any penny."

"When he earns a lot how much do you get?" Tony raised a brow. Coulson must be well heeled.

"Not as much as you do," Phil deadpanned. Clint was still the main topic within his mind.

"Find him," Natasha demanded. "Bring him back home." She knew she was not in any position to bring Clint back home. They weren't on best terms since he left Coulson. The archer left her too. He didn't return her calls, avoided to meet her and kept his distance when they finally met. In addition to that she was angry at him for breaking Phil's heart so brutally.

Phil didn't put up much of a fight, deep inside he wanted to find him too. "I'm on my way."

:::::::::::

Coulson stood in front of Clint's door. From Nick he knew that the room Clint used to live in was not his anymore. The archer moved into a room in section E, far away from other agents. Nick had offered him a bigger room but Barton declined.

He knocked but nobody opened so he let himself in with help of his security code. The room looked like the old one. Sparsely decorated and a little messy. Phil looked around; he was nosy and opened the dressers to make sure Clint lived in there and to sooth his curiosity.

Phil's breath caught in his throat as he found a little box with his name on it and the little side note 'better times'. He opened the box with shaky hands while tears filled his eyes. Two pictures greeted him, one where Clint had his arms around Phil wearing a broad smile. The other one showed Phil with his favorite cap, ranger shirt and jeans. He was smiling. Phil couldn't remember where the picture had been taken or who had taken it. A bracelet Phil had given Clint was in the box too. Their initials were engraved on it; Phil had bought it in addition to a bow for their anniversary. The box contained almost anything Clint treasured, the little plush hawk Phil had bought him in Texas, postcards Phil had sent whenever he visited his family and a love letter Phil wrote years ago while he was on an away mission without Clint for two months.

Coulson was confused it seemed Clint could not let go either but he was the one who ended it. It made no sense at all. Why should he end their relationship and keep the memories?

"I took the picture during the new York Yankee game you enjoyed so much," it was Phil's favorite team and he had been happy that he made it to the game after some cluster fuck of mission. They won and Phil had a real good time.

Phil jerked as Clint's voice appeared beside him; the archer came through the vent and snuck into his own room. "What are you doing here, sir?"

It was hard to speak, the knot in his throat felt like he was choking. Phil rubbed angrily his tears away. "I'm here to make sure you didn't run," he finally managed to say.

Clint looked at him with his big blue eyes before he reached out to stroke the tears away, his touch was caring and gentle what irritated Phil even more. "Don't cry sir. I'm not worth your tears."

"You are to me and you know that."

"You should move on." Clint sat down next to Phil and took the bracelet out of the box; playing with it.

"I tried but it's not easy when you're around."

"I can leave," Clint offered.

"No, you're too valuable." _Too precious to me. I hate that I can't stop loving you. I want to continue hating you, I want to forget you, but I can't._

"I don't love you anymore," Clint used his best acting skills but Phil was not convinced. "I kept these because we had a nice time. I don't have much I like to remember."

"Is there someone else?"

Clint lowered his gaze.

"Is it Johnson? Are you fucking him?"

"No," Clint shook his head the thought made him sick. "It's complicated."

"Do you love him?"

"No."

"So why?" Phil almost yelled in frustration.

"I lied to you about how much I love you. It's just that. You think too much sir. We had fun, you're good in bed but that's it."

"So I was nothing more than your sugar daddy?" Phil felt his heart break all over again.

"Sounds so harsh," and Clint could see that what he said did the trick. Phil's anger and disgust was clearly visible in his eyes.

Coulson couldn't hold his anger in check anymore; he was so angry and hurt. He took one deep breath and before Clint knew what was happening, the older agent hit him. "Goodbye agent." Phil turned around and stormed out of the room. He wasn't sure what to think and what to believe in. It felt wrong, everything felt utterly wrong.

"Goodbye love," Clint whispered to himself after Phil had left. He put the bracelet around his wrist and took the picture where Phil looked so at peace. He wasn't angry or hurt that Phil hit him; the older agent had every right to be mad at him. Clint was surprised Phil didn't hit him sooner. Coulson had a bad temper, at times he yelled or threw things in frustration but he wasn't a violent man, this time was an exception. Clint stroked with his fingertips over the picture before he placed a kiss on it, his split lip left a red spot on Coulson's cheek, "I'm sorry."

:::::::::::::

Clint stayed away from the Avengers and Phil. When he saw one of them at HQ he walked the other way, had he an offer for a mission together with his ex-team he declined. Natasha had tried to talk to him but he ignored her. She yelled and cussed, she tried to be gentle and understanding but nothing worked. She was mad because he hurt Coulson again, she could see it even though Phil hid it well. She was angry at him for letting her down. After two days of trying she gave up on him, he didn't want to be her friend again so be it.

The next few months went by in a blur for Phil. He made it his mission to get Johnson behind bars, destroying whatever he had with Barton. Phil knew he should wish Clint all the best and should be happy that the man he loved was happy. In this case Clint was not happy but that didn't make it any better, or worse. All Phil wanted was to destroy the man who stole his archer away.

Fury noticed what he did and called him into his office. The talk had been long and strenuous. Nick was not happy that Phil chose a mission so dangerous and Phil was not happy about Nick's order to stay away from Johnson. Fury gave in after two hours as he realized that Phil would not stop until Johnson was behind bars or dead. It was easier to keep an eye on his old friend when he wasn't sneaking around behind his back. The changes in his old friend worried him greatly. He was quiet, constantly brooding and the dark rings beneath his eyes seemed to never fade.

The Avengers had noticed the changes too. It wasn't hard to miss the way Coulson ghosted around the tower and threw himself into his work. What worried them most was the fact that Coulson seemed not to care if he lived or died. He faced bullets, laser beams and grenades with no fear at all. The agent used to be nervous, there was a twinkle in his eyes that gave him away, but the glitter was gone just like the rest of life within Phil.

Steve had tried to have a word with him a few times but he never got the desired answer, he was clueless and had no idea what happened to his friend. Tony on the other hand let Jarvis spoil the agent and sometimes expensive gifts appeared out of nowhere. Bruce never asked directly about what Phil knew he wanted to talk about. The big man waited for Phil to open up on his own accord.

Natasha was less friendly with her approaches. She was scared that she might lose Phil too. Clint and Phil were her family and Clint was already gone so Phil was all she had left. She told him so, that she needed him and that he was family, but the older man didn't care. He just said he was sorry and that he was sure she'd find someone special in no time; referring to Bruce. Phil was right she had the Avengers by her side but it wasn't the same, they did not free her from the red room, they did not grant her a second chance in life and they did not put her back together with patience and love.

It was the first time in a long time that she cried, she felt lonely without Clint and seeing Coulson throwing his life away broke her heart.


	6. Chapter 6

Phil's next official mission, after a few more months of delays, was to get close to Johnson and find enough evidences for his illegal activities. Nick got the information from an unknown source that Johnson started to collaborate with the enemy to extend his power. He wanted to control the council and was on his best way to rule the world. Pulling the strings behind the curtain. It was hard to get any evidences the man was too smart to leave traces so Phil met with him in a little warehouse, baiting him with information about S.H.I.E.L.D. projects and fake knowledge about his doing. In short he pretended to be interested in switching sides.

Johnson was more than ready to meet Phil because he wanted to know how much the agent truly knew. Phil was wired and had his back up team close by. It bordered on a suicide mission Phil knew that, even Nick knew that but the director had agreed to send Phil into the lion's den to take Johnson out. Phil was ready to die; he had nothing left to live for. He had tried to forget Clint, to replace him once or twice but it was not possible. The archer was in his heart and soul. It was impossible for him to let go so he decided that dying in the line of duty was a suitable ending for him. Should he survive he would throw himself into the next mission and the next and the next until his time had come. Life wasn't worth living without something to hold on to.

Phil was lonely no matter how much his friends cared for him. He had friends at work and he had the avengers but no one who waited at home for him to return. He had no one he could share his life with.

"Nice to meet you Agent Coulson," Johnson greeted with a smile that put a shark to shame.

"Mr. Johnson," Phil said politely. He hoped they wouldn't search for S.H.I.E.L.D.'s new secret high tech wires or anything.

"Nice to finally meet you in person. I heard a lot about you, especially about your beliefs. So what leads you to me?"

"You're a smart man Mr. Johnson," Phil said smoothly. "But I stumbled over machinations that caught my interest."

"What would that be?"

"Your business with A.I.M. for example," Phil hoped their informant's information were accurate.

Johnson's face darkened, "You heard wrong."

Phil could see he hit a sore spot, "and I heard you have more contact to Namo than you should have."

"That's a lie too," the man denied. The agent was dangerous and he wasn't sure what to do with him.

"I don't think so," Phil pushed; he knew it was a dangerous game he played but he didn't care.

"How many men do you have positioned around the building?" The smile returned. "Five? Ten? … Hm, I think nine, right?"

Phil cussed inside his head, his men were in danger. "I didn't bring anyone. I just want to join your little business."

"Liar, I know you too well Agent Coulson to believe a single word," Johnson snapped his fingers. Three men entered and Phil thought his heart stopped for a moment as he recognized Clint. The archer was just as shocked to see Coulson.

"Surprised to see him here?" Johnson smirked. "He's the best spy I ever had."

"There are better agents out there," Phil shrugged. "Do you plan to kill me and the men you believe are out there?" He spread his arms. Had he known that Johnson knew him so well he would have chosen a different approach. Johnson was a busy man and it was more than suspicious that he knew about Phil's beliefs and loyalty to S.H.I.E.L.D. The man knew one hundred percent that Coulson would never play for both sides. One of the questions racing through Phil's mind was, why did he know him so well? Did Clint rat him out? _No, don't think so. He looks too surprised to see me._

"Barton was right you are too smart to be tricked."

_Or not._

"He's a traitor I wouldn't trust him if I were you," he could see the hurt in Clint's eyes even though his expression was neutral.

"I think you misjudge the kid," his smirk widened while he pulled his gun. "I had a hard time convincing him to work for me." He aimed at Phil, "One last wish?"

The turn of events took Coulson by surprise.

"Let me talk to him," Clint said. His mind raced; trying hard to find a way to save Phil's life.

"No," Johnson shook his head. "I won't let you ruin my plan. His loyalty lies with S.H.I.E.L.D. even though he wants me to believe otherwise. He's too dangerous to walk out of here alive."

"I know that I'm next," Clint had no illusions. Phil was the only reason he worked for Johnson after all. "You know that I will try to kill you the moment you break our deal. So grant me one last talk before you shoot us both."

"Your devotion to this man never stopped to fascinate me," Johnson studied Coulson. "He isn't pretty, he's old, not the athletic type but you followed every order to keep him alive. What does he have that you adore so much? You know agent Coulson, I have my eyes on you for years, I know about everything you do but I can't figure it out. That you love him I can understand, he's a pretty kid, but his love for you is a riddle to me."

"He **is **pretty," Clint approached Phil slowly, wrapping his arms around the older man. Clint pressed Phil's head against his chest, shielding all vital parts with his own body. The hold was so tight that Phil couldn't get out of it. "He is the most beautiful man I have ever seen." Clint placed a kiss on top of Phil's head. "When he fires take the weapon I hide beneath my jacket on the right side and get the hell out of here," the archer whispered. "This time move on."

A shot ran out shocking Phil to the core, he thought they'd get a warning, one last word or one last chance to bargain. Phil felt no pain but he could feel Clint's body jerk shortly after the shot, he could hear a hiss followed by a choking noise. Phil stared into Clint's wide eyes and watched in horror as a trickle of blood ran from his lips, Phil's instinct kicked in the moment Clint sunk to the ground and he obeyed Clint's order, his asset knew what he was doing during missions but instead of running Phil shot Johnson in the head. The man died with a surprised expression. His two minions dropped their weapons the moment Johnson died; they didn't seem very disturbed by his demise. Phil's back up team stormed into the warehouse seconds later, taking the two men into custody. His team was smart enough to take out Johnson's hidden team. They had no illusion that Johnson would walk into the warehouse with a minimum of security.

Phil dropped to his knees not daring to touch the archer. "C-Clint?" Phil's voice broke, "Don't die do you hear me? It's an order agent. You can't die before we get the chance to talk. I deserve an explanation, don't you think?" Coulson closed his eyes for a moment and exhaled heavily before he placed his hands on Clint's cheeks caressing the cold and sweaty skin with the tips of his fingers. So carefully as if Clint was made of glass. The archer was still breathing he could see that but he had trouble to get air into his lungs. His lips had a blue tinge just like his nails. The archer opened his eyes a little and the fear was painfully visible in them. Phil pulled his necklace out from under his shirt and took Clint's hand. He placed the pendant between their joined hands, "Do you remember?"

There was a small nod. "Of course you do," Phil chuckled sadly. "You sacrificed our relationship for my sake and I had no idea." He licked his dry lips, "Survive and we start anew." Coulson's voice sounded determined but Clint wasn't sure if he was hallucinating or not. Phil hated him for what he did and had every right to, so it couldn't be. The necklace felt real though, cool and solid, and Phil's touch was so warm and desperate that it could be indeed real.

"Phil," he mouthed sleepily. "Safe."

Phil tried to read his archer's lips and was fairly certain he understood what he was saying. "I'm real and I'm fine. You saved me," he tried to sound casual in hope to ease Clint's fears.

"Good," Clint's eye lids grew heavier and heavier; the lack of oxygen, pain and blood loss took their toll. For the first time in a long time he wanted so desperately to live. He heard his beloved handler call his name before darkness swallowed him.

::::::::::::::

Fury informed the Avengers days later about Clint's condition. Phil had asked him to wait; he needed time with Clint alone. He wasn't ready to share him; he needed time to make some kind of peace.

Phil spent his time next to the bed, in a stuffy armchair one of the nurses organized for him, and held Clint's hand. He cried and begged but the archer's condition did not change. Clint had flat lined twice on his way to medical and his doctors had to tell Phil that they did not believe that Clint would make it. He flat lined one more time during surgery but to their surprise Barton survived. Four days had passed and he was still alive, that gave Phil some hope but the longer Clint remained so still the more Phil feared to lose him.

A knock interrupted Phil's train of thought, "Come in."

Steve peeked into the room, "Phil?" The agent looked terrible, tired, thinner and emotionally drained. "Can we see him?"

"Yes, but not for too long or the head vixen will kick you out," the head nurse had tried to force Phil to rest. She was a very persistent person, Phil won but he had to rest nonetheless in a bed next to Clint. Yesterday she yelled at him to get a grip on himself and eat, she didn't back down until Coulson gave in.

"Yeah, nice lady," Steve said with a thick layer of sarcasm. "Come," Rogers waved his friends into the room. ICU in HQ was deadly quiet and to respect their patients' constant need of safety they installed video cameras in addition to the glass windows. Phil made sure the camera was inactive, the window was disturbing enough.

Tony entered and paled visibly, his young friend was hooked up on so many tubes he wasn't sure where one began and the other ended. "What happened?"

Natasha needed Bruce's solid comfort to enter the room; he stopped her from turning around and leaving. "Phil?" She gave him a questioning look before her eyes landed on their joined hands.

"Johnson shot him in the back. The bullet hit one of his ribs, pierced his lung and got stuck close to his heart." Phil stated dryly. He felt numb at the moment, devoid of all emotions.

Steve licked his lips, unsure what to say. "So you found what you were looking for?"

"Johnson was dangerous," Phil said. "He did a lot of things a man in his position should not have done."

"So he's dead," Tony concluded.

"Oh yeah," Coulson nodded grimly.

"Good," Stark agreed. It pained him to see his friends that way. "When can we take him home?"

"Probably never," Phil squeezed Clint's hand tighter. "It's a miracle he made it this far."

"You can't say that," Natasha sobbed. "He's a fighter."

"I'm sitting here for days, I have seen him die. I heard the doctors say he won't make it, I heard them say he has a chance. I don't know what to believe in anymore. I hope he survives but I have to be prepared in case he does not."

"Phil," Steve said gently. "He will survive and the way I see it you could be friends again. Maybe something good is coming out of this."

Phil gave his childhood hero a sharp glare, "I hope you mean you believe in destiny or else I'll hit you."

Steve gasped in shock, "I just… I- you should make the best out of it. What happened; happened. There's nothing we can do." He stuttered.

Phil nodded, "You should leave."

"Okay," Bruce spoke for the first time out loud. His main job had been to offer comfort to Natasha and to keep his alter ego locked inside. "See you tomorrow."

"Tomorrow," Coulson confirmed. He sighed deeply after the door closed behind Cap, "I love you Clint, don't leave me alone. Please, don't go."


	7. Chapter 7

Their next visit had been interrupted as S.H.I.E.L.D.'s head priest appeared in medical.

"He's not dead, yet." Phil had blocked the door to Clint's room with his body. "Leave."

"I'm not here to guide him to the lord, I'm here because he asked me to give you this," he waved with an envelope. "It's his last will. I know he is not dead but he made preparations in case he was not able to do anything anymore." The priest tried to formulate his sentences very carefully. Phil Coulson was intimidating and one wrong word could set him off, especially where his archer was concerned.

"Last will?" Tony was all ears. "What does he want?"

"He asked me to read his will should he die, spend more than two weeks in a coma or should his prognosis be…. unpleasant."

There was no need to ask which option made the priest come to medical, "Can we start or do you need more time?"

Phil returned to his seat and took Clint's hand into his own, "Talk."

"His will contains rather private information I don't think they are meant for such an audience."

"It doesn't matter," Phil glanced at the priest. "We're way past the secret-mongering. Keep it as short as possible."

The priest nodded, "Let's start with Mr. Rogers. Hey ol' man, when you hear this I probably did not listen to you. It was an honor to work with you and I hold you in high regards even when we had different opinions more often than not. As thanks for your friendship I want to give you, I know it sounds stupid, my plush Hawk. He accompanied me around the world and gave me a sense of belonging while I was miles from home. Please, Steve, take care of Coulson for me, I can't do it any longer and he will deny it to his dying day but he needs a lot of care. Protect him and continue giving him your friendship and he will be fine."

_Of course I will take care of him my friend. Oh son, you have to hold on. We need you; and I don't think it's stupid to carry a plush Hawk around. I kept a plush puppy in my duffle bag during the war... _

"Tony Stark: Thank you Tony for your friendship and the brotherly feelings you directed at me, I appreciate that. I want you to have my two favorite bows, in hope you don't forget about me. Take care of Steve, he needs you."

_Because you're my brother; my partner in crime. We are not blood related but we are more like brothers than your or my brother could ever be. I will never forget you little bro. In case you die I'll keep your bows at a safe place but for the world to see… Don't leave us_...

"Bruce Banner: You're a good friend and a tower of strength for all of us. I know I shouldn't tell you this, maybe you already know, but Natasha lost her heart to you and I know that you do love her back. So I beg you to take care of her, give her the family she always wanted. Give her anything she always dreamed of. Thank you big guy."

_I wasn't strong enough to hold the team together; I wasn't brave enough to tell Natasha that she was more than a crush, that our unnamed relationship is indeed love. You always have a too high opinion about us. Stay cool green guy, you can't visit him now. He's too fragile... _

"Natalia Romanova: Hey Nat, I'm sorry for not making it. It wasn't my intention to leave you alone and I want you to know that I love you. You're the sister I never had, and my best friend. I'm sorry I hurt you and I hope you can forgive me one day. Natasha, keep him alive, don't let him do something stupid. I think he's suicidal for a while now and I can't bear the thought that he might die. No matter what happened between both of us, do me the favor."

_Clint you asshole, why now? Why couldn't we talk before you got yourself shot? You can't die, I deserve answers. I deserve your friendship and maybe you even deserve mine… I love you Clint, I still love you. You saved me, you cared for me, but I can't fulfill your request, no one can help Phil when you die... _

"Phillip Coulson: I think I owe you an answer. I met Johnson during a job I did for black ops and he took a liking to me. My skills fascinated him and he decided that he needed someone with my skill-set. So he asked me to join him, I declined. He was persistent and one day he threatened to kill you should I disobey his orders. I thought pushing you away would keep you safe but I was wrong. Johnson knew it was my way to trick him into believing he had nothing in hand against me. His men observed you; and me. I tried to get out of his clutches, shortly after the Prague mission happened and you got hurt. Not bad but I'm sure it was a warning. So I decided to end it, breaking all bounds and avoid you at all cost. All I wanted was to keep you safe, I didn't think you would take it so bad. I'm sorry. In case I died before I got the chance to tell you this, I love you Phil. I never stopped loving you. Therefore I bought a house outside of NYC, I always harbored the stupid little hope that we would get a second chance. That Johnson would lose his interest in me or that he dies. I want you to get the house. It's large enough for a wife and children; and pets. The neighbors are friendly and I don't think they will cause you any trouble with questions. Move on Phil, I want you to be happy."

"God damn it Clinton," Phil got up from his chair and threw the plastic cup filled with water across the room. "You're an idiot, Clinton. You could have told me, we could have fought him together. You, I and Nick. Leaving wasn't the only solution." Phil raged, his face red with anger and frustration. "Ahhh," he hissed angrily before he stormed out of the room; slamming the door shut with a loud bang. He leaned against the wall next to Clint's door, no matter how frustrated he was just now he would not leave his archer's side. Phil breathed heavily, his hands began shaking the moment his mind stopped reeling.

The others sat silently in Clint's room, staring at the door Phil vanished through. The story about the woman had been a lie. It was quite a shock that Coulson and Barton had been together. No one had any idea that one of them might be homosexual, and much less both of them. The fact explained a lot regarding their behavior towards each other.

"Phil," Natasha went looking for him and was slightly surprised to find him next to the door. She put her slender arms around him and buried her face in his chest. Phil sunk to the ground with Natasha in his arms, he cried and it felt like he couldn't stop. After a few more minutes he pushed Natasha away, drew his knees up and rested his arms on them. He hung his head, "Idiot." His voice was barely a whisper. He couldn't take Natasha's touches, he felt trapped in her arms. Like the walls came down on him taking his breath away.

"Don't forget to breathe agent," the head nurse knelt down in front of him with a syringe in hand, "Doctor's order."

"Liar," he choked out. "I know you."

She smiled sweetly, "Still angry at me for strapping you to your bed four years ago?"

Phil chuckled, "Old shrew." He did his best to get his breathing back under control.

"I know," she lifted Phil's head up until he looked at her. "The medication will not knock you out; it will just calm you down, okay?"

"Thank you."

"You're welcome."

Natasha watched her friend struggle for each breath until the grumpy nurse distracted him enough to take his mind off of his sorrow for a moment. She realized that she lost her connection to both men. There was a time she was able to help them overcome everything. It was time to rebuild their family. Somewhere along the way they had lost each other without them noticing. Losing Clint had been obvious but the knowledge that she had lost Phil too was quite a shock.

::::::::::::::

Phil did not come back into the room until the Avengers left. Natasha stayed behind to watch over them but Phil asked her to leave, leaving no room for arguments.

"I wait outside in case you need me," she placed a gentle kiss on Phil's cheek before she turned around to leave.

"Nat," Phil called out. "Thank you."

"We are family, Phil. We belong together and we should help each other," she felt guilty for not seeing what was behind Clint's masquerade.

"It's not your fault," Phil looked at her for the first time.

"Neither is it your fault," she gave him a stern look. "I'll get you something to eat. Don't you dare saying you're not hungry," she wiggled a finger at him.

"I'm not but I know I have to," he gave in.

"Good boy," she looked at Clint's still form. "Don't do something stupid while I'm gone Francis," she warned.

Phil watched her leave before he returned his gaze to Clint. "You should have told me about Johnson's threat. You're smart, Clint. You could have destroyed him if you wanted. So why didn't you? There's more to it than you told me right? Did he order someone to kill me in case you rat him out? Or did you think the problem would solve itself with time?" Phil sighed heavily. "You know, I should be angry at you for not telling me but I can't bring myself to be mad. I think I know why you did it and I still believe to know how your mind works but I don't like it. You had the right intensions but I think you made the wrong decisions. Your decision to leave me caused both of us a lot of pain you could have avoided with being honest; but it proves how much you care about me so I'm willing to forgive you. I can't live without you, I tried and failed miserably." Phil unfastened his necklace and took off the ring which dangled from the silver chain. "I know what your answer will be so I skip the proposal," he put the ring on Clint's finger. "I give you all the time you need to accept that you deserve my love... Thank you Clint for keeping me safe." Coulson kissed Clint's hand, the tube down his archer's throat made it impossible to reach his soft lips and he didn't dare to kiss his forehead in case he jostles one of the tubes.

Clint reminded him painfully of himself after Loki's attack; the tubes, the bandages, the pain. Clint will spot familiar scars on his chest and back. Only the shape of the scars will look a little different from Phil's. Phil knew Clint's recovery will be slow and painful, if he survived, and Phil was determined to accompany him all the way. _Nothing and no one will ever part us again. _

Coulson took a shaky breath, "I know it's selfish but I beg you to fight harder. I know it hurts; and I know how hard it is but I promise you it will be worth it. I'm sorry for the pain holding on is causing you but I'd even make it an order if I have to. I will not let you go."

Clint remained unmoving, not that Phil truly expected a miracle but an unrealistic part of his mind hoped for one. Phil fell asleep after two more hours of begging, lecturing and staring at his Hawk. Even in his sleep he held his archer's hand tightly.

::::::::::::::

The team visited again two days later, they thought Coulson might need the time to deal with Clint's condition and what led to said condition. Natasha set up her camp in the waiting room close to Clint's room. One of the sofas unofficially belonged to her after a fight with one of the nurses and a security team. Bruce brought her favorite pillow and the fleece blanket she loved so much, the nurse gave him a deadly glare but he was hulk, nobody dared to cross his path.

"How are you, Phil?" Steve took the seat on the other side of the bed while Tony and Bruce kept Natasha company.

"What do you think?"

"I think you need rest, a good meal and someone to talk."

"I've got a sufficient amount of sleep and I have said anything I needed to say."

Steve narrowed his eyes, "How much did you sleep?"

"Couple of hours," Phil's eyes were glued to Clint.

Steve felt as if he was an intruder; and maybe he was. "You're making yourself sick. Clint wouldn't want that. He sacrificed himself for you; do you think it's fair to trample on his heroic deed?"

"It wasn't heroic. It was plainly stupid, an act of desperation born out of love."

Captain America had no idea what to reply. That was a side of Coulson he did not know. For him agent Coulson was gentle and efficient with high moral standards. The Coulson who sat in front of him was bitter and riven by grief. "You would have done the same."

"I know but it doesn't make it less stupid, does it?"

"No, probably not," arguing was useless. "How is Clint?"

"No changes but I think you already know that," Phil wasn't in the mood for Steve's comfort. Phil knew Steve meant well but there was no point in meaningless conversations.

"Phil, I know it's hard but you can't sit by his bedside forever," Steve tried to hide his concern. Pity and worry was obviously not appreciated.

"Try me," Phil's voice sent a shiver down Steve's spine.

Steve sighed, "We can take shifts. We can keep him company while you take some time off to care for yourself."

"I don't need care."

"You do and you know that."

Phil gritted his teeth, why couldn't they understand that it was impossible to rest while the love of your life fought for his life? No matter where he was, Clint was always in his mind. He knew he could never forgive himself in case Clint died while he was gone and he could not forgive himself should he not be around when Clint opened his pretty eyes. "Don't worry, I'm not going anywhere," he squeezed Clint's hand. Coulson remembered how he told Clint that he would very probably die alone even though he knew the archer feared death, especially the thought of dying all alone somewhere in a ditch. Clint had a few nightmares way back when they first started working together about falling from a trapeze. Dying in the middle of the night at the empty circus ring. Only months later Phil learned that it was not a simple nightmare; it was a memory.

"He doesn't want that," Steve pushed further. "You're his first priority."

"Yeah, but I have my own priorities. Let me tell you something about Clinton," Phil finally looked at Cap. "He sat by my side for two weeks straight after I got shot. He barely ate or slept. Once I opened my eyes he was fine, we ate together and we slept closed to each other. He got two reprimands for disobeying orders. Fury ordered him on a mission, Clint flipped him the bird. The head shrink tried to lock him up for a few hours to get some rest. Clint escaped and broke the shrink's nose the next time he came with the intention to sedate Clint instead of locking him up. He doesn't take shit from anyone, but me." A fact Phil was secretly and in a twisted way proud of.

Steve closed his eyes and rubbed his finger over his forehead, "Phil I know you love him. He's your boyfriend after all, but you have to see reason. His doctor says his chances are very low, bordering on non-existent."

"I made it."

"What?"

"I survived Loki. I beat death and that makes me believe that Clint will laugh death in the face. He's a fighter." He had to believe or else he would go insane waiting for a sign.

"Natasha says she will knock you out in case you refuse to listen," Cap patted Clint's leg before he got up.

"She will not," Phil was sure of that. "Because I'd never forgive her."

Rogers nodded and walked out of the room. Deep in his heart he could understand Coulson and his fears but as a friend he felt responsible for his physical well-being and even more so because there was nothing they could do to ease his mental pain.

"And?" Tony looked up and the look on Cap's face let the hopeful expression on his face die.

"He's in love," Steve shrugged. "He holds vigil until the bitter end."

Natasha got up from the couch and stormed into Clint's room, emerging minutes later with a set of keys in her hand. "I get his things," she informed before she left.

"Not even Black Widow scares our dear Coulson," Tony crossed his arms in front of his chest."I hoped she could break his inner defensive wall."

"We have no choice but to wait," Bruce folder Natasha's blanket to keep himself busy. "Do you really think he will die?"

"I want to believe he's too stubborn to die," Tony stared at the wall opposite him. "... Doctors are not always right, right?"

Steve settled down next to Tony, brushing his shoulder against Stark's. "Coulson seems to believe that they are wrong and who knows Barton better than he does?"

"True," Tony agreed.

"I get some coffee," Bruce strolled down the corridor lost in an inner argument with Hulk. The green guy wants to help and it was hard to make him understand that medical was no place for the Hulk to be. In the end Bruce promised him to talk to Clint after his coffee break, acting as a middleman between Hulk and Clint.

:::::::::::::::

Fury snuck into the room in hope not to disturb his sleeping friend. It was three in the morning after all but to his surprise Phil was wide awake and read a book that most likely belonged to Clint. Coulson was not the kind of guy who read fantasy books about archers and magic.

"Is there something I can do for you sir?" Phil didn't look up from his book; he knew how Nick's footsteps sounded.

"I want to make sure you're alright."

"At 3 a.m.?" Phil looked at his boss, raising a brow.

Nick shrugged uncomfortably, "I was around and thought I say hi."

"Hi," Phil hid the smirk that tugged on his lip.

Nick blinked dumbly until he realized that it wasn't sarcasm but a dry joke, "How is he?"

"Why do you people keep asking me that even though you know the answer?" Phil put his book away.

"Courtesy?"

Phil snorted, "He's alive."

"I can see that but what's your heart telling you?" Fury made himself comfortable on the plastic chair next to the bed.

"My heart and mind do not agree," Phil looked years younger in his blue short sleeved shirt and jeans. "My heart tells me that he will be fine. My mind tells me his chance to survive decrease day by day."

"Do you know what my gut is telling me?"

Phil shook his head. No.

"He will be up and about in no time getting on my nerves; and yours."

"He bought a house for me," Phil ignored Nick's try to help. "He wants me to be happy so he bought a house large enough for a family."

"I got a huge file about everything Johnson did during the last years, including Clint's missions. I found something I think you should know."

Phil frowned; he could feel how his heart sped up with fear.

"There was an accident around six months after your break up. One of Clint's arrows malfunctioned."

Phil's mind raced, imagining all kinds of injuries. _Burn marks? Scars? Do you miss a kidney? _

"He's hearing-impaired. 80% of his hearing is gone," the shock and pain on his friends face broke Nick's heart. "His hearing aids are remarkable but I'm sure Stark can do better. Johnson had power but his scientists were not the smartest."

Phil got slowly up and reached out with shaking hands, he maneuvered one of his hands around the tubes and placed his fingers behind one of Clint's ears; searching for the hearing aid. All he could find was scar tissue, a fine line beginning over his ear and ending close to his earlobe.

"Johnson kept his medical file under tight wraps. I swear I didn't know about it," Fury wasn't sure if he would have told Phil about it if he had known.

"What else happened to him?" Phil's knees felt like jelly and he had to sit back down before he collapsed in front of Nick. He wanted to cry but he had no tears left to shed. His heart felt numb, anything felt numb right now. "Tell me the truth."

"Bruises, scratches, knife and bullet wounds. The loss of his hearing is the worst injury according to his file."

"Are there any indication why he broke up with me?" Phil's voice was so soft Nick almost missed his question.

"Johnson deposited an envelope with money at his notary. In case of his death his notary gives the order to one of Johnson's assassins who get the money after...," Nick shivered at the thought. "Don't worry old friend. Clint figured out who the assassin is and we're close on his heels. There is no one else but him, Johnson's notary is already on his way to the big house."

Phil nodded to himself, _so I was right about the head money_.

"I can give you a copy of the file," it wasn't a suggestion. Nick knew Phil wants the file, he could see it in his eyes; and he knew his friend. "But first I want you to sleep."

"Don't force me into disobeying your order, Nick." He was ready to lose his job over this. His body was not ready to pass out yet and without passing out his dream was too vivid to tolerate.

Nick exhaled loudly through his nose, "You need help."

"After he wakes up."

"Or the shrink comes down here," that was an order and Phil knew it would be easier to give in. "Yes sir. But if he upsets Clint I'll throw him out."

"Deal." Fury bid his goodbye and left to find the shrink who worked the graveyard shift that day.

:::::::::::::

Dr. Austin was one of S.H.I.E.L.D's psychiatrists and a very patient man but agent Coulson was starting to annoy him. Three days had passed and the man didn't say a single word, at least not to him. Sometimes he whispered soothing words to the unconscious man but that was it. Fury told him he had to use his famous patience, his reputation was the reason the director assigned him to care for the agent. His colleague from the nightshift had told him that Fury had ordered him to perform damage control until he finds a suitable shrink because Coulson was close to a breakdown; she tried to get through to Coulson once and failed miserably.

Dr. Jeanette Andersen was one of the best, she was very intelligent and she had a talent to make her point as delicately as possible. She got under your skin before you knew it but Coulson was obviously immune to her charm. She was shocked as Coulson brought her down a peg or two.

"You have to talk at some point," Austin finally broke the heavy silence. "Fury expects us to work on your issues."

Phil gave him a cold glare before he returned his gaze to Clint. Something was different and Phil had no idea what it was, that bothered him. Clint's doc said that his condition didn't change but Phil could swear the color of Clint's skin changed slightly. The color looked less deadly and his skin was a tad warmer. But the doc said he was imagining things. Phil was not sure if what he was noticing was the truth or if he was going insane.

"I heard agent Barton is your boyfriend," Austin baited. No answer. "You have the choice, we talk or I will call director Fury and inform him about your lack of cooperation."

Phil huffed, giving him an amused half smile. "Did you hear that?"

Austin frowned as Coulson spoke to the archer instead of him, "What's so funny?"

Phil tilted his head to the side to look at his shrink, "I'm not afraid of Fury."

Austin had heard a lot of rumors about agent Coulson but now that he had met him in person he had to admit that the rumors didn't do him justice. He was way scarier than people let on.

"You could lose your job."

A little smirk appeared on Coulson's face, he looked demonstratively at Barton before he looked at his shrink, raising his brows a little. "Do I make the impression the prospect of losing my job matters?" Phil was inwardly praising himself for his skill to irritated people. Clint would crack up if he could see the flabbergasted expression on Austin's face.

Austin regained his composure, chiding himself for falling for Coulson's tricks. "With all due respect sir but you waste my time with your games. I have patients who actually want me to help."

"Stop wasting our time then and go," Phil replied with a triumphant glint in his eyes.

"I have to call the director," Austin stated seriously and was utterly confused as Coulson handed his phone over to him.

"He's on speed dial," Phil encouraged. "Okay," he shrugged as Austin continued staring at him. "I'll call him then."

After ten minutes an unnerved Nick Fury pushed the door open and glared daggers at both conscious men. "What the hell, Phil?"

"I want Dr. Gordon," Phil demanded.

"Couldn't you say that before I assigned Austin to you?" Fury growled.

"You didn't ask."

"What's wrong with him?" Nick pointed with his thumb at the shrink without looking at him. Austin felt uncomfortable while both men talked about him as if he wasn't there with them.

"Don't like him."

"Why Gordon?" Fury's tone lost some of its steeliness.

"Barton likes him," that was a really good reason for Phil to try his luck with the young man.

"He's rather young and not as experienced as Andersen or I," Austin reminded them of his presence.

"Clint trusts him enough to tell him bits and pieces, so I grant him a chance with my soul." Phil met the kid once after one of Clint's appointments. Gordon was the first shrink Clint visited without a security team to make sure he reaches his destination.

Nick snapped his fingers, "Leave." There was no doubt whom Nick was talking to, "Okay Phil, you'll get the kid but don't break him."

"Don't worry; I will not break the only shrink S.H.I.E.L.D. has who's able to handle my asset."

Nick smiled, "Your asset?"

"My asset," Phil confirmed. "I want him on my team as well. I want my old life back."

"I understand," Nick truly did. Barton made his friend happy and vice versa, they were good for each other and Nick was secretly pleased to get his best team back. Coulson's team was the best he ever had and no other team had been able to hold a candle to Team Coulson.

"Sorry for toying with your psychiatrist," Phil said slightly sorry. "Clint loves some action."

"I'm sure he had fun, right boy?" Nick hated it not to get a reply from Barton when he talked to him. He was used to Clint's cheeky remarks and his wit. To see him so still and silent hurt deeply.

"See you later boss," Phil rested his head on his fist and closed his eyes. He was tired and his body let him know that it was ready to shut down for a while. He fell asleep almost immediately.

"See you later Phil," Nick placed a blanket over his sleeping friend. "You have to get better Clint. We need you here."


	8. Chapter 8

It took four more days for Clint to claw his way back out of the darkness. He was floating through nothing; it was just dark and cold. Sometimes he heard voices, but wasn't sure he didn't imagine them. But there was one thing he was sure of. He knew he had to hold on, to find a way out of this dark place. Clint had no idea how but he tried to stay strong and believe in finding a way.

The scenery changed and for a moment he was scared that he had died. He tried to control his fuzzy mind and listened to the noises around him. The familiar noises calmed him down enough to not freak out any further.

There was something warm where his hand was supposed to be and a voice made its way through the fog in his mind. "Clint. – Clint."

Clint's heart skipped a beat, _Phil!_ He tried to open his eyes but they felt as if someone glued his eyelids together. "It's okay. Take all the time you need. Don't push yourself too hard."

_Phil_, Clint drifted back into unconsciousness.

Coulson caressed the top of Clint's head while the archer's eyes moved under his eyelids. It was the only indication that Clint was on his way to recovery. At least that's what Phil hoped.

A change in the beeping noise of the heart monitor had jolted him out of his sleep. At first he thought Clint was dying but then he noticed the motion of his eyes beneath his eyelids. At that exact moment his heart knew, Clint was on his way back home. Phil pressed the emergency button before he tended to his frightened lover. Phil knew the signs by now, he had spent enough time next to dying and healing agents to have a solid opinion of his own. But a hint of doubt lingered in the back of his mind. "Welcome back, Clint," a few tears of relief streamed down his face. "I knew I didn't imagine things. They told me I'm dreaming but I was right. I was right. Sleep some more, I'll be here."

A doctor and nurses stormed into the room, shoving Phil aside. They checked his vitals and the doctor gave one of the nurses an approving nod. "He's not out of the woods yet but I dare to say that he will live, if he continues fighting that way."

"I know," was all Phil said. He waited patiently for the medical staff to finish their examination before he returned to his rightful place at Clint's side.

Natasha burst into the room followed by Steve seconds after the medical team had left the room. "Phil!" He could see the fright in her beautiful eyes.

"He's alive and kicking," he smiled at her. His eyes glittered with joy.

"It's nothing serious?" Steve asked worriedly while he studied the archer.

"He was half way conscious a few minutes ago," the joy on Coulson's face lit up his whole appearance. He sat straighter, the deep lines of worry lessened and his aura was more than promising. He still looked tired and a little thin but with a little more time his body would fix it on his own.

"Does that mean he will be fine?" Natasha asked hopefully.

"No but it's a start," Phil returned his gaze to Clint. "His doc says if he continues fighting he will make it."

"That are good news," Tony's voice took them by surprise. They didn't hear him coming. Stark stood in the doorway and looked like he just ran a marathon. Jarvis kept an eye on anything and had informed him that there was an emergency in Barton's room so he ran all the way from the mass hall to medical. Taking the stairs to be faster. "You got us worried my friend." Tony occupied one of the chairs with the intention to wait for Clint to wake up for good.

"Stark, I don't know if Fury told you this already but we need your help," Phil said after a few more minutes they spent in silence. Natasha sat on the end of Clint's bed watching him like mother would her child. Rogers sat next to Tony, leaning slightly against the billionaire.

"What with?" He frowned. S.H.I.E.L.D. asking for his help was nothing he was used to. They liked to sort their own problems out and they didn't trust him with new inventions. They had the paranoid idea that he could accidently blow them up.

Phil pressed his lips together; he had no idea how to address the delicate topic. _Sorry Clint I know you hate pity. _"How familiar are you with hearing aids?"

"The mechanic is simple," Tony said self-confident. "I never designed them before but I'm sure I can revolutionize this branch of technique."

"That's what I want to hear," Phil visibly relaxed. "Do it, please."

"I'd do anything for you Agent Agent but I want to know why though."

"Clint's got damaged during a mission some weeks ago and Fury brought to my attention that you might be able to make the most awesome hearing aids the world has ever seen."

"When did that happen?" Natasha yelled, scaring them all.

"Six month after we broke up. Nick got his hands on Clint's medical file. He informed me a few days ago about the accident."

"Accident?" Natasha snorted.

"His sonic arrow malfunctioned and damaged his ears," _so yes, accident_.

His friends were shocked, anger bubbled inside their chests at the thought that someone's sloppiness cost Clint his hearing. Tony made it his mission to find the culprit and he could see the consent in Steve's eyes.

To their surprise Natasha punched Clint's leg, "What the hell, Francis! Can't you at least once ask for support? Why did you have to endure it alone again? Moron." The thought of Clint all alone in a hospital bed without hearing anything made her sick. The thought was frightening. She tried to imagine how Clint must have felt. Hurt, alone, vulnerable. The ability to hear a threat before it strikes was an agent's ticket home, preferably without coffin.

"Natalia," Phil warned. "Hit him one more time and you'll find yourself in Siberia. Wait until he has recovered."

"Yes sir," she pouted.

Steve blinked, "Is it one of these sibling things I heard about?" _Francis?_

"Yes," Phil sighed dramatically. "Wait until they reconnect. Stark needs an own bonesetter in his Tower."

"Do I have to remind you of your fallout with Agent Quartermain?"

"Don't you dare," Phil narrowed his eyes.

"I'm all ears," Tony urged her to continue.

"Quartermain asked Clint out and out of frustration about Phil's lack of interest in him he agreed. Clint realized afterwards that Coulson was not as uninterested as he thought and Quartermain learned that no one, absolutely no one, was permitted to touch what was Coulson's."

"Don't exaggerate."

"You broke his arm; and he couldn't move properly for over a week."

"No touching Clint, got it," Tony nodded to himself.

"I think I am the least evil if you touch him," the agent glanced at Steve who blushed furiously. "I don't stand a chance against Captain America."

Natasha huffed, "Says the man who takes on gods."

"You saw how well that ended," the amusement was back in Phil's voice and Natasha was glad that Phil had obviously made his peace with what happened. She was scared at times when she caught sight of fear or self-doubt in the older agent's eyes.

"Your reputation is even more awesome, Agent Bad-Ass," she hadn't the heart to take his amusement away with what she truly felt. Phil's brush with death had scared her and was still haunting her at night. Not as often anymore but around once or twice a month. She was not over it, far from it, and she'd probably never be.

"That I am," he was nothing like his reputation. Bad-ass, maybe. But he was not cold and unfailing. He had failed Clint. The archer was at fault too but Phil felt nonetheless like he let his archer down. Clint shielded him with his own body, probably planning all along to get shot first so Phil could take his weapon and flee. Barton put Coulson's life over his own. Clint had put Phil's life over his own. It was so like Clint not to think of himself when death was concerned. Hawkeye was famous for protecting his favorite handler and Clint outside of his uniform had a similar reputation for caring for his stoic friend.

His neighbors weren't surprised at all as Clint moved in one day. They greeted him like they always did and they included him into their world within the apartment block. They gossiped and talked about this and that. Clint played ball on a regular basis with Mrs. Martinez boys. She was a widow and had to work a lot so Clint offered to take care of her boys twice a week, if possible. The kids loved Clint; he was their hero especially after he became a real super hero.

The neighbors noticed his absence immediately and asked about his whereabouts. The Martinez kids still ask if he knew where he was at times. Or if they still had a chance to be friends with the archer now that he was famous. All Phil could say was that he didn't know; he could assure them that Clint liked them but not that he comes back one day.

"Holy sh-," Natasha's eyes widened. "Coulson!"

Phil followed her gaze to Clint's hand, "Bought it before we broke up. Why waste money?!"

Tony smirked and tried hard not to comment on it. It was too precious to make fun of. Not right now anyway.

Steve was a little slower but figured it out without help. He was raised in a time where gay marriage was a crime but his own attitude was okay with it. Feeling otherwise would be hypocritical.

"What if he says no?" She demanded to know.

"He will definitely say no."

"Huh?" Her expression slipped for a moment.

"He will say that he's not worth it and that what he did is unforgivable. I on the other hand will force myself on him until he sees reason." _He loves me, I love him, problem solved_.

"Do you know what the saddest part of your plan is?"

He waited for her answer.

"That it will most probably work," she let out a long suffering sigh. "You'll be the death of me, both of you."

Tony started laughing followed by Steve. Phil joined them shortly after. Natasha enjoyed hearing Phil's laugh. It was the first time she heard him genuinely laugh in years.

::::::::::::::

"Hey Hawk," Phil said gently as Clint opened his eyes a little. "It's okay, don't worry. They hooked you up on a ventilator you know how to handle them."

The archer nodded as much as he could, letting his eyes scan the room. _Phil. Thank god you're okay. He didn't get you,_ Clint thought triumphantly until a nagging feeling crept up in the back of his mind. Johnson wasn't able to take Phil away. _The bounty_, his eyes widened. _I have to warn him_.

"Hush," Phil urged. "Calm down. You're hurting yourself."

Clint tried to move his arm, his joints felt like jelly but he had to try.

Phil took Clint's hand in his own, "Calm down or the nurses will poke and probe you again." Coulson was surprised how persistent his archer was. Normally it was rather easy to calm him down. "Don't try to move, you aren't ready."

Clint tugged weakly on Phil's hand, _I have to warn you_.

"Son, whatever it is it can wait." Steve took Clint's other hand.

"Cap is right. Johnson is gone and we caught his assassin yesterday. There's nothing to worry about, so whatever it is be patient," Tony babbled.

To their surprise all fight drained out of their friend and he stopped struggling. It was obvious how hard he tried to stay awake.

"You want to warn me right?" Phil concluded. He could see the answer in Clint's beautiful eyes. "He's gone, Nick took care of it."

Clint squeezed Phil's hand, the pressure was barely noticeable but Phil was hyper aware of Clint and every move he made. "You need more rest," Coulson wanted to cry from happiness. It was a very good sign that Clint woke up again; all lasting doubts vanished the moment the archer opened his eyes.

Clint moved his head carefully from left to right and back. He didn't want to sleep. He was afraid of the darkness which accompanied sleep.

Phil sighed softly, "But you need rest."

"Coulson is right your body needs time to heal," Steve argued. The expression on Clint's face was stubborn but his body would win soon that much was obvious.

"Let me tell you about the new arrows I created during your absence," Tony started cheerfully.

Clint listened to his friend's soothing voice and drifted into a dreamless sleep before Tony reached the interesting parts of his story about arrows, bows and blowing things up.

"Good work, Stark," Phil was grateful for Stark's help.

"I'm offended Agent Agent that your agent fell asleep while I held a highly interesting speech about destroying S.H.I.E.L.D. property," Tony stated in a mock hurt tone.

Phil smiled, "Thank you."

"You're welcome," Stark mirrored the smile before he got up. "I have hearing aids to create, see you later."

"Can I help?" Steve wanted to spend some time with Tony, what happened to Clint made him think.

"Of course," Tony hid his surprise behind a smirk. "Come on big guy."

Phil watched them go, wondering why they did not act on their mutual attraction. The unresolved sexual tension between them was unnerving.

Coulson sent Natasha a text to inform her about Clint's improving condition. He had sent her on a date with Bruce because she was getting on his nerves. She constantly hovered over him and grew more and more restless but her duty as a friend forbade her to go anywhere.

The nurse of the nightshift checked on them once more and was more than satisfied with the progress the archer made. The medical staff was waiting for them to leave medical. Taking care of a fretting Coulson was exhausting but the combination of Coulson and the Avengers was more than they could take.

"Hey awake again?" Phil kissed Clint's knuckles. "They have to run more tests before they take out the ventilator. And I'm not sure when they will remove the other tubes. "

Clint blinked once, _okay_. They developed their own emergency language over the years.

"How are you?"

Clint blinked once, _It's bearable_. Blinking once was positive, blinking twice negative.

"I know you have been better but it could be worse," _you could be dead_. "Thank you Clint, I owe you my life."

He blinked twice, _You owe me nothing_.

"I do," Phil placed Clint's palm against his cheek. "You did so much for me and I had no idea. That was stupid but I understand. – Don't cry," he warned. He hated it when Clint shed tears. It made his heart constrict and his mind raced to find a way to take those tears away. "There's nothing to cry about."

_There is_, Clint blinked furiously to get the rid of the lingering tears.

Phil took a deep breath, "No, Clint. I forgive you. I forgive you for breaking my heart. –I want what we once had. I want to wake up next to you; I want to fall asleep in your arms. I want to nag about your untidiness and I want to see you play with the Martinez boys. I want to see you play with our kids."

Clint's eyes widened. He wasn't sure that his drugged mind put the words correctly together.

"Come home, please," _come back to me_.

_I hurt you, I __**broke**__ you_. _I can't go home after all I've done_.

"Let me say it differently," Phil licked his lips. "You're coming home with me; that's an order, agent."

Clint wanted to chuckle at the absurdity of the conversation. _Idiot,_ he thought fondly. The archer pulled his hand away and motioned Phil to place his hand on the bed. Coulson did as he was told and moved his hand closer to Clint's as he realized that Clint's hand was searching for his.

Clint used Phil's palm as a notepad; writing an L with his index finger on his handler's skin.

"L-o-v-e-y-o-u-." Phil's face lit up while he took a shaky breath. "I love you too. I never stopped."

The archer wrapped his hand around Phil's and held him tight. It was his way to say that he never stopped loving him either.

"S-O-R-. Stop right there," Phil ordered. "I know that you're sorry and I'm sure you know it was stupid but I don't want an apology. If you still love me as much as you claim you do, let's start over. If you don't want to then you don't love me as much as you pretend to do." It was a cheap trick but Clint would never come back on his own accord. Guilt and the sense of unworthiness weight too heavy on the archer's soul. _I don't let you run from me because you're scared of screwing up again. _

Clint closed his eyes, _that's mean_, he caressed with his thumb weakly over the back of Phil's hand.

"Next time you wake up I want an answer," he knew what Clint's answer would be.

:::::::::::::::

Two days later Clint was almost tube free and able to stay awake for more than a few minutes.

He noticed how the dark circles around Phil's eyes faded and his skin gained some color back. The older agent increased his food intake and Natasha snuck burgers in for him. The nurses pretended not to know as long as Barton stayed away from it.

Yesterday he'd noticed an unfamiliar weight around his finger and pondered since then how to address the ring. To be honest they barely talked since Clint was able to reply verbally. The silence wasn't uncomfortable but not relaxed either it was something in between.

Questions lingered between them, neither voiced nor answered. Phil was still waiting for a reply to his question and Clint didn't dare to ask why.

_God Barton you're an adult_, Clint chided himself. _Open your damn mouth_.

"I don't bite," Phil looked up from his book. This time it was a political thriller.

Clint didn't know how so he raised his hand and wiggled his finger. His eyes never strayed from Phil's.

"We're engaged," he stated matter-of-factly.

"We are?" The surprise clearly visible on the archer's face.

"Of course, or else the ring wouldn't be there, right?"

"Uhm."

"I bought the ring before our relationship ended so it's not some kind of survivor's guilt or PTSD. We just marry later than planned," Coulson shrugged; returning his gaze to his book.

"Do I have a say in this?"

"No."

"But…"

"No, but. You want to marry me but your wrecked self-worth tells you otherwise. So no you don't have a say in this. –But you can pick the date."

"August 3th."

"That's next year," Coulson frowned. "Do you try to stall time for changing my mind in the meantime?"

_That too_, "It's the day I got shot." _If you still want me by then I'm convinced you're insane; and that you love me very much. _

Coulson almost dropped his book as the words sliced like a dagger through his heart. The memories he tried to bury deep inside his mind rushed over him like a monsoon.

"We can marry on your birthday? How does that sound?" The archer backpedaled. It wasn't his intention to cause his fiancé, _damn that sounds good_, any pain.

"My birthday is next month," Phil whispered absentmindedly.

"Stop thinking then and get a notepad, we have a wedding to plan."

"What?" The flashback subsided.

"We have one month to plan our wedding, we have not much time to lose."

"Next month?" _Next Month! Holy…_

"See, you don't truly want to marry me," he misread the expression on his handler's face.

"… cold feet..."

"What?"

"I get cold feet," Phil confessed. "That's what I dreamed of since we got together. I'm scared."

"You're scared? Coulson is not scared of anyone."

"But Phil is," Coulson gave him an insecure smile. "Wait, why do you think I'm never scared?"

"You are the best agent the agency has; and I got the impression you changed over the years we spent apart."

"You were right about me being suicidal. I stopped caring if I lived or died. I stopped caring for you, at least I tried. But I never stopped being scared. You dying in my arms scared the hell out of me. Not even Loki scared me as much as the prospect of losing you; bleeding out in my arms."

"Why do you love me so much?"

"I don't know. My heart longs for you. The way you move, the way you smile and the little wrinkles around your eyes when you smile. Your wit and intelligence; don't disagree. Your voice; your eyes, especially the way you look at me. Like I'm the only person in the universe who matters."

"You are the only person for me," Clint confirmed. "I love you the way you are. Angry outbursts, jealousy and hatred included."

Phil took a sharp breath, "I'm old, I lose my hair, I'm getting chubby and I'm not a nice person. I never understood why you love me either but you do and that's important; and all I need to know. You made a blunder, I truly thought you toyed with me, but now that I know it's not true I am able to forgive. That's all I can say. I have no idea what else I can say to make you understand. I can only repeat myself over and over again until you believe me."

"You're right I don't believe it. Not because I think you're a liar, I know you are not, but because I can't forgive myself. I would make the same decision again; I still believe it was the best choice but it does not make it right. I broke your heart, even though I knew how much you loved me. I hoped you'd move on, you know. I hoped you hate me and find yourself a suitable woman, or man. You'd be an awesome dad," Clint smiled ruefully. "You're a great man Phil, never doubt that. Everyone has flaws, they're normal."

Phil remained silent, thinking about all the things Clint had said.

"Phil?" Clint worried. _Did I hurt you?_

"Do you remember Rio?"

"Yes," Clint was confused.

"It was our first mission after changing from friends to lovers."

The archer waited patiently for his lover to continue.

"The mission went well," it had been a good day. They waited for the mark, Clint shot him and they returned home. "Maria and Jasper invited me for a drink after our briefing."

"I remember. You came home early. You're still not talking to Maria and your relationship with Jasper isn't what it used to be."

"They asked me why I put up with you. They did not understand why we entered a relationship. Maria thought, and probably still does, that you're not worth my time. Jasper on the other hand thought I was just a play thing. Someone you could screw and toss aside."

"They must have cheered inwardly, or very openly, after our break up," it pained Clint to know that Phil's friends did not approve of him.

"They did. Jasper and I rebuild our friendship after you left. He tried to put me back together. Maria just said I told you so." Coulson leaned forwards in his chair, "Do you know what I said? Before we broke up."

"No," Clint whispered.

"That I'm not worth your time because you posses the kindest soul of us all. You might be exhausting and difficult to handle but despite all beliefs you posses a heart of gold. And do you know why they'll never understand?"

Clint shook his head.

"Because they don't know you the way I do. Carrying granny Baker's grocery bags, playing with the Martinez kids, playing Santa each year at the orphanage close by, protecting little Lucy on her way home from work at night, playing the perfect housewife," he added the last part to lighten the mood because Clint hated it when Phil described him as housewife of the relationship.

Clint snorted but Phil's speech touched him deeply.

"You're blaming yourself again," Phil realized. "Stop that."

"I do not," he got defensive.

"Yes you do. I can see it in your eyes. You believe you destroyed my friendship with Jasper and Maria."

"No," it was anything but convincing.

"I didn't tell you this to add to your guilt. It just popped into my mind and I wanted to talk about it. Nothing more."

"I can't help it," he looked away.

Phil trapped Clint's chin between his strong fingers and forced Clint to look at him, "Don't look away. Don't ever look away from me."

Clint nodded, swallowing the lump that formed in his throat.

"In your case looking away means hiding and I won't let you hide from me ever again. I want to look into your eyes while we talk. I deserve the truth."

"Okay."

"Okay," Phil sealed his order with a loving kiss. He enjoyed Clint's warm lips against his own. "I missed you," he breathed against his lover's skin_. I missed you so much_. The kiss sent a sense of love and warmth through Coulson's body. He felt alive for the first time in ages.

Clint hoped the kiss would never end. He had missed Phil's familiar weight against him, his soft lips touching his own. He felt loved and safe; seconds ago he could barely remember how that felt like.

"I'm sorry," Phil pulled away. "I'm keeping you awake. You look ready to pass out."

"'m not sorry," he wanted those soft lips back. "Sleep with me?"

"No," Phil returned to his seat. "You're not well enough. I could hurt you."

"Want to feel safe," the archer mumbled sleepily. The loss of Phil's body heat made him feel the cold even more.

"You are safe, Hawk. I'm here," Phil reassured. "And I'm not going anywhere."

"Want to talk," he was stubborn enough to fight his sleepiness.

"We can talk later."

"We have so much to discuss."

"No, Hawk. We don't."

Clint squeezed his eyes shut for a moment to get rid of the burning feeling in his eyes. He hated being sleepy.

"Stop fighting it," Phil caressed Clint's arm. "I endured the same after Loki, trust me you need rest."

"I know," Clint opened his eyes. "I know what you had to endure."

Phil looked flabbergasted, "It wasn't a dream?"

Clint lips formed a lazy smile, "no dream."

"I thought I imagined you."

"Kept you company when no one was looking, not even you." It was impossible to keep his eyes open any longer.

"Oh, Clinton," Phil sighed fondly. "I thought you were just a happy memory ghosting through my mind. You're the reason I'm still alive. Your pleading voice kept me away from the light," Phil mused out loud while he put the puzzle pieces together.

"Couldn't leave you alone," Clint's voice was so soft Phil had to strain his ears to catch his words. "… needed guidance."

"Thank you," _I almost missed all this. I would have died without knowing the truth; leaving you here all alone in front of the shards of your life. _

Phil got no reply, Clint had fallen asleep.


	9. Chapter 9

Natasha sat in a corner of her favorite restaurant, waiting for Bruce. She pressed her index fingers against her ears to stop the noises around her. She watched the customers. Most of them talked animatedly about something. A few were laughing. On the other side of the room sat a couple, holding hands. A sudden movement next to her startled her and she wasn't able to suppress a jerk.

"What are you doing?" It was Bruce.

She stared at him, trying to remember how his voice sounded. She loved his voice. Natasha opened her mouth and decided to give it a try. She answered but she could see on Bruce's face that he had no clue what she had just said. With a sad smile on her lips she put her hands down, "I want to know how it feels to be deaf." The thought of Clint being deaf didn't let go of her.

"Ah," he sat down. "How does it feel?"

"It's frightening," she confessed. "I didn't notice you at all. I was so focused on observing that I missed your entrance. If our date were a mission I would be dead by now."

"He has his hearing aids. He's not defenseless or handicapped."

"He must have been scared," she looked so vulnerable and young that Bruce felt the urge to Hulk out and protect her. "Waking up in the hospital, the moment he realized he couldn't hear anything..."

"He's though."

"He's not."

"No?" He tricked her into talking about her relationship with Barton.

"No, he's a scared child in the body of a 42 years old adult."

"He doesn't seem so childlike. Okay he can behave like a kid at times but I got the impression that he's very mature beneath his façade."

"I don't mean he's not mature. It's his- soul. His emotional world resembles that of a child. He can't make a difference between… for example… Tony made a joke about his upbringing do you remember?"

"Yeah, about him being a carny kid."

She nodded, "In our eyes it was just friendly banter but for Clint… the way I know him all he heard was you're nothing more than a carny. No education, no home, no worth."

"Oh," Bruce was surprised. "But when I remember correctly he made a witty remark and they laughed about it."

"One thing I know for sure about Clint is that he'd rather die than let you see what's going on inside his mind. It was always me who observed and pushed him to talk about it. He never came on his own, not once."

"Does he talk to Coulson?"

"Back then, sometimes. Phil can read Clint like no one else can. Not even me. He's famous for tricking Clint into doing what he wants," she smiled sadly while she lowered her gaze. "I'm not immune to his tricks either."

"I know what you mean," Coulson was a tricky man and had twisted the Avengers around his finger more than once. One glare or casual comment, more wasn't necessary. "I can't imagine them together. All I have seen is coldness and hate between them."

"They're sickening," she grimaced. "At work they behave normal, little touches here and there nothing more, but in private their practically glued together. Okay they meet with friends and go out alone but in general they constantly hold hands, or cuddle, or brush their shoulder's together… all these things."

"I can do that too," he felt suddenly really brave while she talked with that longing expression in her eyes.

She blushed furiously, "I-…., I want that too." The confession wasn't as hard to voice as she thought it would be. "I'd love to have that with you."

It was Bruce's turn to blush. "Gladly," he placed his huge hand on top of hers. "We can make it work."

"I know," she smiled at him taking his breath away. They weren't ready to say the three famous words but in their world it wasn't absolutely necessary. They knew it anyway.

::::::::::::::

"Can I ask you a question?" Cap sounded so insecure that Tony stopped working on his project.

"Sure."

"What do you think about gay marriage," not what he wanted to say but this would do too.

"When they love each other," he shrugged, "it's fine with me. I think love is not bound to gender. Do you have trouble to accept it? I mean you're… old."

Steve laughed, "No, no it doesn't bother me."

A strange glitter appeared in Stark's pretty eyes, "Do you try to test if I'm interested in a relationship? … With you for example."

The scarlet red color on Captain America's face told him anything he needed to know, "I wouldn't have flirted with you if I were not interested. Against public beliefs I'm not unwilling to enter a lasting relationship."

"Oh god," Steve buried his face in his palms, _that's awkward_. "Would-, would you like to go out with me?" He rushed, making Tony laugh.

"I'd love to," he said to avoid misunderstandings. Cap could misinterpret his laugh and think he was making fun of him. "I liked you since our second mission together," he added more serious.

"Yeah, I realized my attraction around that time as well. You're not as infuriating as I thought."

"And you're not as self-righteous as you pretended to be."

"I hated you're guts."

"What? I'm shocked; Captain America hates a simple citizen of his precious country?"

"You're not simple and you're nothing like you want us to believe you are," he loved the snarky genius with his hidden heart of gold. "Be honest, you hated me too," he smirked.

"Hell yeah I did. You're so bossy and old fashioned," _and caring_.

"As much as I want to go out with you," Steve placed his hand on Tony's cheek. "I'd like to finish your project first."

Tony moved into Steve's personal space, "You and your boy. Should I be jealous?" He pressed their lips together not giving Steve a chance to reply. He knew the answer anyway. Barton was Steve's boy and Coulson's man, Tony was Steve's partner and Clint's brother in crime.

"I agree with you Captain," he smirked against Cap's lips. "Let's make our boy happy."

:::::::::

"Phil," Clint tried to move.

"Stop that," Phil pushed him back against the mattress. They transferred him to a normal room without 24/7 monitoring but that didn't mean the archer was well enough to get out of bed. "Your doc didn't give his okay."

"Where are my clothes?"

The older agent noticed that his archer was mentally absent; probably still half asleep. "Evidence room, they kept them in case they have to court-martial someone."

"I need my vest," Clint struggled weakly against Phil's hold.

"You stay here. I get you whatever you want."

"Second pocket on the right," Clint blinked sleepily. "They have no right to take it away from me. Phil will be mad if I lose it. Don't tell him but he can be really, reeeally sensitive. I want it back. 'm not safe without it… -keeps me grounded..."

"Don't move while I'm gone," he ordered. "And don't worry I won't tell him."

Clint nodded and tried to focus on the man with him in the room. He hated meds.

Coulson stopped at the front desk, ordering a nurse to keep an eye on Barton, before he walked down to the evidence room. It was easy to get Clint's belongings but to his surprise the pocket was empty. _Clint must have imagined things. _

"Have you found what you're looking for, sir?" A middle aged agent peeked into the room.

"No," Phil frowned. Even drugged Clint knew what he was talking about, not always whom he talked to but the topic was correct. "Who had access to the room since Barton was hospitalized?"

"Just me and Agent Ross, sir."

Phil wanted to say something as a silver object around the agent's wrist caught his attention. He knew the bracelet. "Pretty," he pointed at the bracelet. "Where did you get that? My mate would love it."

"Brought it back from my trip to Vancouver," the man shrugged.

Coulson tilted his head, "Vancouver?"

"Yes sir."

The rage inside Coulson intensified and he acted on instinct rather than logic. He pushed the agent against the nearest wall and pressed his forearm against the man's throat while his other arm held the agent's wrist tight in place. "Funny coincidence that you wear my bracelet. I wasn't aware to have given it to you."

"I don't know what you're talking about," he rasped.

"I bought the bracelet for a special someone and it wasn't you," Phil hissed. "What else did you steal?"

"I'm not a thief."

Phil snorted, "You're not a thief but you wear my fiancé's bracelet. There's something not quite correct with your story."

"They said his condition was... fatal," there was nothing wrong with taking things when the owner was dead anyway.

"Have you ever thought about it that their families might want their belongings to keep the memory alive?"

"Barton does not have a family."

"I'm his soon to be husband, what does that make me?"

"Family," the guy almost choked on his words as Coulson put more pressure on his throat.

"Right," Phil glared before he snapped the guy's wrist like a twig. He let go of the crying man and took the bracelet off, staring at it for a while. _Clint carries it around on missions_, his heart swelled with love. _He endangers his recovery just to get this piece of silver back. I didn't know my present means so much to you. Probably comparable with the necklace you gave me. _

He clutched the bracelet in his fist while he waited for security to pick the douchebag up. The guy didn't move more than absolutely necessary in case Coulson lashed out again.

His expression was grim and most people avoided him on his way back to Clint, just Jasper was brave enough to approach him.

It felt strange to see his friend walking through HQ dressed in jeans and a shirt. "Phil, wait."

"Follow me if it can't wait." Phil continued walking.

"What got into you?" Jasper was worried.

"One of the guys down in evidence stole Clint's bracelet out of his jacket."

"You know that why?"

"I went down there to get it and the bastard wore it around his wrist," Coulson growled dangerously.

"Why does it matter, it's Barton's."

Phil stopped so suddenly that Jasper's mind didn't catch up with it instantly; he turned around to look at his friend. "It's over. Phil you have to let it go."

"Leave me be," Phil got his legs into motion, passing by without sparing Jasper a second glance.

Sitwell followed, keeping a safe distance. He wasn't sure Phil wouldn't shoot him. After they reached medical he stood in front of a door with a little plate next to the door. _Barton?_ Fury said there had been an 'accident' with a few high ranking politicians and that Barton got caught in it. His condition had been critical and they assumed that the archer did not make it.

Jasper had to be sure so he gathered all his courage and stepped into the room. The sight that greeted him shocked him.

Phil sat next to the archer and held the sleeping man's hand while he read him a story. The infamous bracelet stood up against Barton's pale skin. The archer looked like death warmed over. He reminded Sitwell strongly of Phil's brush with death.

"What do you want?" Phil put down the book, not trusting himself enough not to throw it at Jasper.

"He's alive?"

"What bad luck," Phil deadpanned. "I don't want to hear it," he raised a hand to stop Jasper from saying out loud what was clearly written all over his face.

"What are you doing here, Phil? You promised yourself not to fall for his tricks again," Jasper said unimpressed.

"Not here," Coulson looked at Clint to make sure the archer was still sleeping. A fight caused by his survival was the last he needed right now. Phil got up and pecked Clint on the cheek before he forcefully pushed Jasper out of the room. "I have no time for your shit, you get two minutes."

"I asked my question now you owe me an answer." Sitwell wasn't as unaffected by Coulson's mood as he tried to make the other man believe.

"A misunderstanding, that's all it was."

"Huh, sure."

"Did Fury tell you why he's in there?" Phil pointed at the door behind him; his eyes never left Jasper's.

"He said something about an accident."

"Accident?" Phil snorted disbelievingly. "Clint got shot protecting me. High ranking people used him; they used **me** against him..."

Sitwell was speechless as tears spilled from his friend's eyes.

"They threatened to kill me should he deny their orders. They put a bounty on my head to make sure Clint behaved. In case one of them dies an assassin comes after me," it was hard not to let names slip. "So tell me Jasper, what would you have done?"

"It could be a lie," Sitwell doubted the story. Barton had broken Phil's heart once and there was no confirmation that he wouldn't do it again.

"Leave Jasper, before I do something I might regret."

"No, you have to listen."

"I don't want to listen," Phil yelled. "I'm tired of listening to you."

"He's a trained liar; he's good at playing with people. I'm afraid he hurts you again, why can't you understand that we're worried?" He meant himself and Maria. "We don't want to lose you."

"You just lost me," Coulson lowered his gaze and walked back into the room not giving Jasper a chance to recover from his verbal blow.

"How much did you hear?" Phil stared into the open eyes of his lover.

"He has a point," Clint ignored the question. "He's a good friend."

"I have to choose," Phil sat down on the edge of Clint's bed. "And I choose you."

"Do you have to choose?"

"Yes," Coulson said softly. "I love you Clint. I can live without friends, I did for a while. But I can't live without you."

"Can I talk to him?" Clint wanted to fix the mess he made. To his surprise Phil started to laugh.

"Absolutely not. You're on each other's throats in no time. He will not listen and you will push until both of you snap. There's no way I let you guys talk without me around."

"With you then," Clint pouted.

"No," the older agent stroked a strand of hair aside. Clint's hair was a little longer than it used to be. "You're still sick."

The archer reached out and grabbed Coulson's shirt, pulling him closer. "I will fix it one day," he urged his lover to lean further forwards.

Phil had fun letting Clint wait for his kiss. The lines of frustration on his archer's face were adorable.

"Kiss, now."

The older man chuckled as he took pity on his asset so he brought their lips together, kissing Clint until they ran out of air.

::::::::::::::::::

Maria was furious, she had yelled at Nick for hiding Clint's survival. The older man had given her a lecture about camaraderie. She never understood why he loved the jerk so much. Barton was a liability and an asshole. He broke Phil and Fury didn't seem to mind.

"Phil we have to talk," she stormed into Clint's room not bothering to knock.

"Agent Hill," Phil said politely. "What can I do for you?"

Clint looked back and forth between both agents. The air felt heavy, as if he could cut through it with a knife.

"You can't be serious," she fumed. "After all he has done you crawl back to him? What are you a masochist? The asshole will hurt you again, Phil. It's just a matter of time."

Clint wished the ground would open beneath him and swallow him.

"I am serious agent Hill," Phil glared at her. "Who gives you the right to judge over my private life?"

"The position as your friend," Maria glanced at Barton who tried to make himself invisible. "We are not friends' Agent," Phil's voice dripped with venom. "We stopped being friends a long time ago."

"I never stopped considering you one of my best friends. I care for you Phil, if you want to or not and I warn you. He will make the same mistakes all over again, breaking your heart in the process."

"Do you know what happened?" Phil seethed.

"He walked out on you," she stated.

"Do you know why he did what he did?"

She frowned, "He's feeding you lies. Whatever it is he's telling you, don't believe him."

"I think you should leave," Clint could see how Phil's body prepared to strike. "Maybe we should continue another time."

"Shut up you scumbag," Maria yelled at him. "I don't want to hear one single word out of your dirty mouth, got that?"

Phil got up ready to throw her out of the room as Clint wrapped his strong fingers around his wrist. The archer hissed in pain as his body protested.

"Clint," Phil focused his attention on his lover. Clint fought for each breath while he tried to breathe through the pain. "Let me see your shoulder," there were droplets of blood seeping through Clint's gown.

"Just overstretched the scab," Clint whispered in a pained tone. His shoulder felt like it was on fire.

Phil didn't believe a word and pressed the button to call a nurse. He forgot about Maria who stood silently close to the door.

"I have to ask you to leave," the nurse hurried into the room with a doctor in tow. "You too," she ordered Phil.

Coulson reluctantly left the room with Maria in tow. He wanted to strangle her but that would make Clint angry. "Happy now?"

"No," the panic on her friend's face felt like a dagger to her heart. "Why Phil?"

"I'm sure Jasper told you why."

"It's a lie."

"No it's not," Phil hissed. "I was there. I saw him getting shot. I heard Johnson say that he used Clint."

"Johnson?" Her eyes widened. The guy was a bad man and they were happy he was gone.

"…," Phil cursed himself for spilling secrets.

"I heard he likes to blackmail people," she remembered a briefing they had months ago.

"They used me to get his service. He broke up with me in hope they'd lose interest in me but they didn't."

"It could be a con."

"Hell, Maria." She frustrated him. Why was it impossible to convince them?

"Do you truly believe him?"

"What do you think?" He replied angrily.

Maria sighed, that wasn't what she had planned. "Fury knows about it?"

Phil gave her a look that stated clearly that he thought she was kidding.

"We talk again after I read the file," it was an order.

"Yes, vice director," he made it clear that he did not approve. She waited with him until the nurse and doctor emerged from Clint's room. The silence was uncomfortable but she hadn't the heart to leave him alone.

"The blood comes from scabs but sadly his rib needs more time to recover because he caused some damage with his sudden movement."

"Nothing too serious?" Phil worried.

"No," the doctor promised. "He'll be fine."

"Thank you," Phil went back into the room. Maria on the other hand was on her way to squeeze the file out of her boss. "What do you think you're doing, Clinton?"

"I was worried you'd kill her," the archer confessed. "Killing friends is rather lousy."

"I was not going to kill her," Phil put his hands on his hips. "I just wanted to throw her out."

"Alive?"

"Yes, maybe, alive." Phil gaze softened. "I'm glad you didn't hurt yourself that much."

"I know you'll get angry but I have to ask. Do you think it's a good idea to marry me? You'll lose many friends. I'm not S.H.I.E.L.D.'s favorite agent, especially not after Loki."

"What does he has to do with all this?"

"They hate me for leading him into the Helicarrier. They hate me for killing their friends. They hate me for hurting you, not as much as I hate myself for it but they're angry. They don't like having me around."

"It's not your fault," Phil took Clint's hand. "He fucked with your mind."

"They don't care, and I'm not able to get rid of the memories."

"I'll protect you," _I'll keep your nightmares at bay. _

"I don't need protection," Clint felt weak and unworthy. He could protect himself he always did.

"I owe you for saving my life, how does that sound?"

"I don't need anyone's protection," Clint was desperate to remain strong.

"I know you don't want to hear that but you do need protection. You always needed me in a way no one but us understood. It's okay to accept my offer."

"I don't need your protection, I'm an adult."

"Does that mean you don't need us?" He pointed from himself to Clint.

The archer opened his mouth to deliver a snarky reply but the sadness in Coulson's eyes let the words die on his tongue.

"Couples protect each other," Phil continued. "They care and treasure each other."

"I-, I'm not a weak child," Clint mumbled.

"I know you're not a child. You're an adult. A strong one I might add. But even adults need someone who cares enough to keep harm away."

"I couldn't protect you," _Loki almost killed you_.

"You protected me from Johnson."

"Yeah, that ended well," his voice was filled with sarcasm.

"I'm alive. It was you who almost got killed. I was safe in your arms."

"It was nice feeling you again," Clint's gaze seemed dull.

"To feel you again were indescribable; until the bullet hit," the memory sent a rush of fright through his body.

The tremor that ran through Phil's body was conspicuous no matter how hard he tried to hide it. The archer reached out in hope to soothe some of the pain away but Coulson withdrew from him. The memory was still too fresh in his mind to deal with Clint's touch. He couldn't forget how his archer's warm body was pressed against his, the force as Clint's body slammed against his the moment the bullet tore through his innards. The look on Clint's face and the trickle of blood.

"I need air," Phil breathed heavily. "I'm sorry," he added before he took flight from the situation and Clint.

Barton tried to get up but his body protested strongly and the more he thought about it the more he accepted that Coulson needed some space. As far as he knew the older man remained by his side; not granting himself time to grieve properly. Phil obviously delayed his own coping process until now. Or rather his mind caught up with him and he had to start dealing with it.

So he lay back down and did the only thing he could do at the moment. Wait.

::::::::::::

"What are you doing here old friend? You look like you've seen a ghost." Nick sat down next to Phil who sat on a bench close to a tree. HQ had a little backyard with trees, flowers and as much green as possible.

"I ran," he stated simply. He couldn't believe that he ran from the man he claimed to love, whom he swore to protect just moments ago.

"Could you be even sketchier?"

"I ran from Clint," he looked at Nick with wide eyes. "He tried to touch me and I ran."

"Why?" Nick hated dealing with traumas but Phil was his friend and he obviously needed him.

"A flashback. I- remembered the shooting and how his body reacted when he got shot. I mean, he used his body as a shield. He cradled my head against his chest. Johnson had no chance to hit me; he had to kill Clint first. Ah hell, you know the report…"

"I do," Nick confirmed he had read it over and over again. "But reports are objective. I have no clue what you went through," he tapped his index and middle finger against his own chest, above his heart.

"He was dying in my arms; he was ready to die for me even though our ways parted years ago and you know how messy that was," he remained silent for a while before he continued. "He was there, after Loki hurt me. I didn't imagine him," a gentle smile graced his lips.

"I too thought your mind was playing tricks on you," seemed like the archer tinkered with their system to outwit his tracking device. Normally he only tracked agents when they got caught by the enemy but after Phil told him he had seen Clint he used his power as director to bend protocol. The device never showed him near medical. "I have to ask him how the hell he tricked the tracking device."

"He gets smarter," Phil adored Clint's quick way of learning. He was the living proof that even high-school drop outs are smart. They just chose the wrong path, lacked individual attention or chose not to bend themselves to fulfill society's expectations.

"Yeah," Nick said sourly, "especially with Stark around. I don't appreciate their friendship."

"But you have to admit that their good for each other."

Nick let out a sigh not hiding the distaste behind it, "That they are. Do you think they grow closer?"

"Should Clint lower his protection wall even further… yes."

"I feared it," the director growled half-heartedly. "But back to the topic. How are you feeling about all this?"

"I don't know," his emotional world was nothing more than pure chaos. "I'm happy he's alive. I'm happy he loves me and that it was just an act to lure Johnson away from me. I'm glad we get a second chance."

"I hear a 'but' in all this."

"I have to learn everything anew. He's not the same person I loved and I'm probably not the same man he used to love. I have to gain his trust again and I have to learn how to give him my trust. What happened left marks, very deep marks on both our hearts. In addition to that I have to work through the shoot out. I couldn't stand being around him. I-"

"Phil, it's a normal reaction to what you had to endure. It needs time, a lot of time and I'll give you the best psychiatrists I have. You can keep Gordon if you want but you have to cooperate with them or else they can't help you. You know that. I understand the difficulties of rebuilding your relationship but do you know what I think?"

Phil shook his head, no.

"I think beneath the masques both of you are wearing, are still the same people I used to know back then. The construct of your protection walls might have changed but not your personalities. You need time to adjust and Barton needs time to drop the act he had to put up for your sake."

"You might be right," Phil nervously played with his hands.

"I am right. I know you guys. I didn't pick a side and held contact as much as possible to you both. I know what I saw and what I'm seeing now. You're scared and worry much more than necessary. You always think too much, making yourself sick one way or another."

"Do we truly have a chance?"

"Yes."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Did you just listen?"

Phil huffed, "Thank you Nick."

"Aw don't thank me. Our conversation never happened, that's an order."

"Yes sir." Phil felt better after Nick's clumsy try to make him see reason. His friend was most probably right but it was hard to believe when your mind provided question after question; horror scenario after horror scenario.

"Go back to your man or go home," Fury gave his friend a strong pat on the shoulder before he returned to his duty.

Phil decided that going home was the best option for now. He needed time to think and rest. The stress was catching up with his body and he felt like he could sleep for ages. Clint was in good hands and would be fine for a few hours.


	10. Chapter 10

Of hours became days and Clint feared for his handler's well being. Two possibilities ghosted through his mind. The first option was that Phil got hurt; kidnapped or dead included. The second option was that Phil realized that his promises and dreams had been a mistake. Clint opted for the second scenario. He was sure someone had told him if Phil had gotten hurt.

His doc said he could leave in two days but he had to find a person who was willing to fuss over him 24/7. The Avengers were too busy, they couldn't provide enough attention and Natasha was not made to care for people that way. Phil was obviously not the right person either. Clint had no one else he could ask.

Clint got used to the thought that he would stay way longer in medical than he was comfortable with. He was bored and lonely. That his friends had busy schedules and crazy villains to fight were facts he understood so he was not angry to be left alone.

Phil's absence hurt him deeply, though. He hoped the older man would stick to his promises and make Clint believe that they had a chance. _It's my own doing, _he cradled his left hand against his chest; he let his fingers ghost over the platinum band around his finger. _He doesn't want me anymore. He's all I ever had. I don't want to lose him again. I can't... He deserves better. Hard as it is Clinton you're not the right one for him. _He fell into a restless sleep.

Coulson snuck into the room, hoping that Clint wasn't too angry at him for vanishing for three days. What he saw made him frown. Clint lay on his uninjured side, hand against his chest. The other hand held it protectively in place. The only noise in the room was caused by the archer's soft breathing but that did not fool the older agent. He could see the lines of tension on his lover's face. The way he laid was familiar too; and Phil thought that Nick was probably not so wrong about being like they used to be. Clint was in distress, a nightmare he guessed.

Phil sat down on the chair he occupied for so long since the shooting and took Clint's hand gently into his own; guiding it away from his chest. "I'm here," he whispered. "Everything is okay."

Barton didn't wake but his expression lost some of its seriousness. "Good boy. I'll keep your ghosts away from you. They will not harm you in any way, I promise."

Hours past before Clint came back from his disturbing journey into his dreams. The first thing he noticed was the familiar weight around his hand, the warm skin against his own. "Phil?" He mumbled; blinking his sleep away.

"How are you?"

"Why are you here?" It wasn't an accusation or snippy remark. It was an honest question that came right from his heart.

"I needed time. Sorry," Phil gathered all his courage to hold Clint's sad gaze.

"How do **you** feel?"

"I'm scared and overwhelmed by all we had to endure." _No more lies and half truths_.

"What are you scared of?"

"You, me, us." It was hard to put it into words but Clint seemed to understand nonetheless.

"Me too," he confessed to make it easier for Phil to voice his fears.

Phil squeezed his fiancé's hand, "I fear we have changed too much over the years. I don't know you anymore but I know that I desperately want to keep you."

"You didn't change that much," Clint offered him a reassuring smile. "You're grumpier and you don't treasure your life as much as you should but aside from that you're still the man I fell in love with back then."

"How do you know that? You weren't around." He held Clint's hand tighter as the younger man tried to pull away. "It wasn't meant like that."

"I kept tabs on you and I live in the vents, you just stopped looking for me." The few friends he had before the attack had kept an eye on Coulson and they informed him about all the important stuff.

Barton could see the questions in his lover's eyes, "I know about your brief relationships. I know that they didn't work out. I know that you got shot in Mombasa and I know that you still keep your apartment even though the neighbors must have been nosy at the beginning. You get sleeping pills since your stay at the hospital a few months ago. Loki caused more damage than stabbing through your chest."

"I-"

"You don't need to say anything. I know you stopped keeping tabs on me and you tried to avoid anything related to me. It's okay." It truly was.

"I know about your ears," Phil blurted out, taking Clint by surprise. The archer looked ready to bolt. "Nick gave me your hidden medical file," the director was not 100% honest about the seriousness of some injuries. "I know you lost 80% of your hearing. I know you barely survived Paris and I know they tortured you to keep you in line after you blew one mission to save a young girl."

"You're not supposed to know that," Clint looked away. He was ashamed of being deaf.

"Did you learn sign language?" There was nothing in his file about that.

"No," he whispered.

Phil nodded to himself, "no matter what, I love you."

"Do you think I changed too much for you to love me in the long run?"

"You're icier at times, you communicate less therefore your skill to twist people around your finger and make them believe what you want them to believe is still intact. Just different in some ways. Sometimes I get the impression you don't care anymore, about other people, and that you got rid of many of your quirks."

"For example?"

"The nurses haven't complained about you, not yet anyway and that is suspicious. You don't spend as much time in the vents anymore as you want me to believe and you stopped smiling the way I love so much."

"You don't smile either," _not like you used to beam during the baseball game. _

"No, I don't but time will change that. I'm not vanishing again, I promise."

"Are you sure?"

The childlike hope in Clint's eyes made breathing a difficult task, "Of course. Don't you trust me anymore Clint?"

"I never stopped trusting you. No matter what you said you'd never have let me die."

"I said many things."

Clint snorted, "You had every right to. I was not gentle with letting you down, because I knew I would stay otherwise."

"How long do you have to stay?"

"Two more weeks, give or take." _Clumsy way to change the topic._

Clint was lying he could see it in his eyes. "Okay," Phil nodded. "Let's watch the game. We don't have to sort it out all at once."

Clint guided their joined hands to his chest and held on for dear life. Phil moved his chair closer to the head of Clint's bed to offer him his shoulder to snuggle against. Clint's body language told him anything the archer hid inside his thick skull. The archer might be a master of changing topics and telling half-truths but his habits gave him away.

The younger man was scared shitless and was struggling with his abandon-issues. The signs were too familiar to miss. _He has not changed as much as I feared_. Phil kissed his archer's forehead, "Love you."

Barton remained silent but he snuggled closer to make a point.

::::::::::::

Two days later the doctor paid Clint one of his his daily visit. "How are you?"

"I'm fine," rehab was a bitch but he had to play along if he wanted to remain an archer.

"Good," the doc nodded. "I get your papers ready and you're out of here within the next two hours."

"Huh?" Clint's eyes widened.

"Agent Coulson is taking care of you from now on. I thought you knew?"

"I didn't tell him."

"Coulson or us you have the choice."

Just as he opened his mouth Coulson appeared in the doorway with a carefree expression on his handsome face. He looked pretty with his blue jeans and black shirt. The dog tags glittered in the light and the ring around Coulson's finger seemed to illuminate the room. Clint fell in love all over again.

"Ready to go?"

Clint nodded dumbly.

"Good, I'll help you dress and then we can start packing your stuff." The older agent walked to the small dresser and picked the most comfortable things Clint had.

"Good luck," the doctor said with a small grin before he left.

"You could have told me that you need someone to look after you," Phil said casually while he helped Clint out of his gown and into a well worn shirt.

"I thought you might not want me," Clint confessed. Eyes still fixed on his lover's handsome face.

"Oh I want you. I'm your partner, for better or worse, Clint. I believe in old fashioned vows." _I'm here for you. _"How was rehab?"

"Long," Clint felt sore and hated every minute of it.

"I know. It will get better," he knew from experience how hard it was to get back into shape.

"They say I will be able to use my bow once I'm better. What am I without my bow?"

"Mr. Barton-Coulson, New York's loveliest social worker."

That surprised Clint to no end. _Social worker? Barton-Coulson! Oh my…_

"Stop worrying so much," Phil captured his lover's soft lips. "You're more than an archer. You're my fiancé, Anthony Stark's brother, Captain Steve Rogers's boy, Hulk's best buddy, Natalia Romanova's family and Nick Fury's protégé. I know it troubles you to believe it but you're by far more than an asset."

"Thank you," he felt better knowing that he was not useless without his biggest skill.

"Now let's get out of here," Phil helped Clint to get up and guided him to a wheelchair before he hunted the doctor down.

:::::::::::::

"I thought we head for the Tower," Clint stated as they stopped in front of their old apartment.

"Too many people," Phil cut the engine and walked around the car to help Clint out of the SUV.

"But it's your home."

"Our home," Phil corrected. "They won't bite." He was sure Clint was scared of their neighbors.

"I walked away."

"I want you here Clint or else I would have dumped you on Pepper," he stated drily. "Come."

Clint followed him, carefully avoiding being seen. He was worried about what he might feel once he entered the apartment. The flat was filled with memories. Good and bad ones.

The apartment looked like it did years ago. Clint's favorite blanket lay on the couch. Pictures of Phil and him decorated the wall behind the couch. He could see his favorite bowl and mug when he peeked into the kitchen.

The bed was new; it was bigger and looked more comfortable. The bedclothes were Phil's favorites. He was surprised to see a few of his belongings in the bedroom. He kept these things in his room at the tower. He left them behind as he moved out.

There was a large TV on the wall opposite the bed. That one was new too. They usually watched TV in the living room.

"Little present from Tony. The couch isn't comfortable enough so he decided we need a second TV," Phil put Clint's few belongings away.

"Remind me to thank him," Clint felt warm inside. It was a great feeling.

"Sure," Coulson conjured more pillows out of his dresser and build a little nest for Clint. "Lie down before you keel over."

Clint sighed, he hated bed rest but his body had a mind of its own at the moment so he did as he was told. "When do you have to go?"

"Personal leave," Phil adjusted the pillows behind Clint's back. "Since the day you got hurt. I will return to my duties when your condition allows it."

"You don't have to do that."

"I know that." He sat down on the bed. "Now get some rest while I make dinner. You have to eat before I can give you your pills."

"What pills?" He only used painkillers if the pain became too much.

"Your shrink wants you to continue taking them."

"You talked with Gordon about me?"

"I'm your handler I get this kind of information and I knew about them anyway."

"You knew?"

"I found them the day you slipped in the shower."

"Oh," Clint lowered his gaze.

"It's nothing to be ashamed of," Phil assured. "Many agents take meds against this and that."

"I know," he whispered. "Can you stay with me a little longer? Until I fall asleep?"

Phil lay down on the bed and pulled Clint closer against his body. "You're safe."

"I know," Clint made him-self comfortable. He enjoyed Phil's presence but it didn't feel as familiar as it used to be. There was a time Clint felt worthy to be held by Coulson. He felt loved and treasured. This time he felt more like an intruder; or a burden. The archer realized that he had to earn his place on Coulson's side. He had to work for his love and tenderness. Phil might not see it that way but Clint had to prove himself that he was still worth it to be around his handler.

"That did not sound very convincing."

"I know that I'm safe with you. I'm just not sure if you're safe with me."

"What makes you think that?" Phil frowned.

"I had your back for many years, and one mistake in judgment took it all away. I fear the biggest threat for you in this world is…- me."

"You're not a threat to me," Phil gasped. "What makes you think that? That's stupid Clinton. You should know that."

"You know the answer," Barton closed his eyes. He was tired and cursed himself for not keeping his mouth shut.

Phil didn't bother to reply. Clint was right he knew the answer. Clint's damaged sense of justified and unjustified guilt was causing a lot of problems. His guilt trips were always hard to bear and even harder to overcome. What Loki did was not his fault but for his archer the blame lay on himself and himself alone. What Johnson did was not right but Clint blamed himself for what he thought was the right thing to do. Almost getting Phil killed was not his fault either. Not during Loki's attack and not during Johnson's try to liquidate him. But all Clint could see was that he had something to do with it, so it made it his fault. Breaking his heart was one more incident his archer couldn't deal with. The archer was a little at fault too but all in all it was Johnson's sick game that lead to the inevitable. In addition to that Clint harbored a generous amount of guilt for his brother's death and he felt responsible for the beatings he got as a child and teen. The list was long and Phil could feel how the pressure slowly but steadily tore his lover apart.

Clint caressed Phil's chest. His handler remained silent for too long and the small gesture was his peace offering.

Coulson placed his hand on top of Clint's; holding their hands in place. "I have no idea how to get you out of this one."

"What do you mean?"

"Your guilt," Phil rubbed his cheek against Clint's hair. "I never succeeded in taking it away. I can protect you from many things. That's something I was always good at but your guilt is stronger than I am. The only thing in this world I can't protect you from is yourself. You're not dangerous to **me**; you're a danger to yourself. You always have been your worst enemy and I have no idea what to do about it."

Clint couldn't deny that Phil was probably right. "You keep me in line that is a very good way to prevent more harm."

"Keeping you in line is not enough, it never was." Phil was so frustrated that he used his agent Coulson tone of voice. He chided himself, _Coulson stays at the office._

"I love you Phil," Clint listened to his lover's breathing and paid more attention to the beating heart beneath his palm. "I try, okay?"

Phil sighed, "We will work on it."

A little smile appeared on Clint's face and he closed his eyes, "No matter what you think. You do a damn fine job protecting me from myself."

"I do?" Coulson's voice turned playful. The atmosphere was too heavy to be comfortable.

"You might not believe it but you're the only protection I have from myself."

Phil was not sure if he believed Clint or not but nonetheless a strong sense of love and protectiveness flooded his being with warmth. "Good to know. How did you survive without me?" He placed a firm kiss on Clint's forehead.

"The way you did," Clint replied sleepily. He could feel Phil's body tense against his. "I had no flings. In case you need to know. There was no one."

Clint was faithful even though they went separated ways. Phil felt guilty and couldn't shake the feeling that he cheated on Clint. He knew it was unreasonable.

"I know it's unfair but I'm glad your relationships didn't work out," one more point Clint felt guilty for.

"I'm glad too," he wasn't sure he would have taken Clint back if he had a partner by his side.

"Don't worry about it," it never stopped to amaze Phil how well Clint could read people. "I wouldn't have come back if you had someone else."

"I'm not sure I would have asked you to come back."

"I know," Clint kissed Phil's chest. "I mean I would have stopped fighting so hard."

Phil needed a moment to understand what Clint meant and when he did, he sat upright so fast Clint almost rolled out of bed. "What do you mean you would have stopped fighting? You would have died just to get away?"

Clint took a sharp breath as pain shot through his shoulder, "Damn." He blinked a few tears away. "Your presence made me fight. You wouldn't have been there if you had someone else to love. You wouldn't have offered me a lifeline."

Phil stared at Clint. The archer couldn't identify the swirl of emotions that flooded his lover's gaze. He wasn't able to read Phil and that fact sent a sense of insecurity through his heart and soul.

Barton struggled to get up as silent tears ran down Coulson's handsome face. The older man did not blink or sob. He just sat there; staring. Clint wasn't sure Phil even knew he was crying. "Phil," he said gently while he reached out. He kept his movements slow, giving Phil time to retreat. "Sir?" He placed his hand on Phil's tear stained cheek.

Phil started blinking, leaning into Clint's gentle touch. "I would have let you die," it was a fact he couldn't handle. "I would have let you die alone."

"It's okay," as long as Phil was happy anything was okay.

"How can you say that," Coulson's voice dropped low until it was just a whisper. "I would have visited you a few times, the rest of the time I would have spent with someone else at home. Cuddling, laughing…," _while you drift deeper into the darkness until your heart refuses working, forever_. The thought scared him deeply. _Visiting your funeral with someone else by my side; taunting your memory. _

"Come back to me," Clint urged. He hated the faraway look on his handler's face. "Wherever you are, come home."

Phil swallowed a heavy lump that formed in his throat. He took shaky breaths to get more air into his burning lungs. He hadn't realized that he forgot breathing for a moment. "Oh god," he squeezed his eyes shut.

Clint's hand wandered from Phil's cheek to his neck, he pulled his lover gently against his chest. "Hush, don't fret over what ifs." He rocked back and forth; it was a strategy Phil used when Clint was the one close to a breakdown.

"I cheated on you," Phil whispered.

"The hell you did. You were single and lonely. A new partner in your life was what I was hoping for. Phil, love is what you deserve. Whatever makes you happy, Phil, is okay with me."

"I should have known. I should have looked deeper into it. Our love was over so suddenly, I didn't see it coming. The fact that I did not see it coming was a good indicator that something was wrong."

"I run from situations I fear, Phil. You know that. Thinking that I ran out on you because I work that way was not wrong. I fled from the orphanage, I fled from my brother, I tried to avoid putting my trust into you, I tried not to love and depend on you. I'm a notorious coward."

"You're a lot of things but not a coward," a hint of amusement lingered in Phil's voice.

"What else am I?"

"You're an abused child and you react like one, it has nothing to do with cowardice. You trust me, you love me and you put your own life on the line on a regular basis for anyone in need of protection; these are not the acts of a coward. You deserve your title as a hero, Clinton."

Clint smiled with satisfaction as Phil forgot all about his freak out moments ago. He was counting on Phil's protective streak. "I'm a hero?"

"You are," Coulson confirmed.

"Do you know who my favorite hero is?"

"Iron Man," Phil said self-confident. "He's for you what Cap is for me."

"Not anymore, true I decided to fight on the right side of law after seeing him in action but I grew up enough to know that Stark is just a man with flaws and a dark side just like anyone else."

"So who is it?" Phil's posture relaxed a little and Clint noticed that he was breathing easier.

"You."

"What?"

"You, Agent Phil Coulson, are my hero. You're smart, good at heart, honest and determined to serve the world. You're intentions are pure, free of revenge or hate. You do what you do because it's the right thing to do." _Hurt feelings don't count_; _they're a good reason to lash out._

"I'm not special," _and as pure as you might think_.

"Yes you are. I don't have superpowers either and you consider me a hero so why is it not possible for you to be a super hero?"

There was nothing Phil could say. Clint had a point. "I'm a hero?!" His own words sounded strange in his ears.

Barton could feel Phil smile against his neck. "My hero."

"Ohhh," Phil pushed Clint gently away to get a look at him. "Your shoulder," he urged his lover partly out of his shirt to examine the wound. "I almost kicked you out of bed." _What a fine hero I am. _

"I'm fine," that was a lie but it didn't hurt enough to make his body betray his lie.

"God, I'm a mess," he rubbed over his face. "I'm sorry Clint. You need your rest and I freak out like a school girl."

"It was long overdue," Clint stretched out on the bed, trying to find a comfortable position. "Freaking out can be healthy."

"Did you just throw my own words at me?"

"You remember?"

Phil huffed, "It was after your brother died of course I remember. I'm surprised you remember what I said. You were pretty out of it."

Clint smiled, "Like I said you have no idea how much power you have over my mind."

Phil returned the smile, it was hard not to when Clint looked at him with adoration in his eyes. He got onto his knees and bent forward to kiss his archer before he pulled the covers over him. "You need sleep."

"I slept enough," he suppressed a traitorous yawn. "I sleep the days away."

"That's what you need at the moment."

"And what's with what you need?" He felt guilty for trapping Phil.

"I need you," Phil lay down and put his arms protectively around his lover. "I didn't know how much I needed you until we started working together again."

"Wasn't easy."

"No it wasn't. It drove me crazy," Phil closed his eyes.

Clint's eyelids dropped too, "I know. Me too."

"Sleep well, love."

Clint fell asleep pretty fast and Phil watched over him for a while. Much later he realized that Clint had tricked him into forgetting about his frightening realization.

:::::::::::::::::::

"Phil, I don't want to." Clint lifted his arm under his therapist's watchful gaze. "I'm sick and tired of it."

"There's no way around it," Phil sat at the other side of the room on a bench. It pained him to see his athletic asset struggle with each move.

"Archer or not archer; your choice." The therapist was not one of the friendliest guys around and he was tired of Barton's attitude. He hated his snippy remarks and creepy gaze.

Clint clenched his jaw and tried to succeed with the task the therapist gave him. It hurt and he fought against his own boundaries until his arm felt lame. He gritted his teeth and continued even though his muscles protested.

"Enough for today," the therapist nodded. "See you tomorrow."

Clint didn't reply, he didn't like the man much but that was nothing new. Doctors and therapists of any kind were as high on his list of favorite persons as Dr. Doom or Kang. In addition to that he was too tired to move, not even his jaw.

"Get up my next patient is waiting outside." He patted Clint ungentle on his uninjured shoulder.

Barton winced, barely visible but Phil could see it bright and clear. He could see the pain Clint was in, the worry about his future and the strain life put on him. The kid in front of him reminded him of the young man he met years ago. Barton never showed his weaknesses, he was too scared people could use them against him. But Phil was attentive and had watched his newbie intently after he joined the team.

Clint was a cute guy, and damn pretty. They're mutual attraction had been a surprise; a very positive one. Sometimes he felt a lingering sense of anger and disappointment towards Clint because of all that happened between them but then he caught Clint when he lowered his walls and all negative feelings disappeared.

"Let's go home, Clinton," he said gently. He walked over to his fiancé when he noticed Clint's lack of movement. "Let me help."

Clint closed his eyes for a second. He liked it when Phil called him Clinton. The older man had a way of saying it that made his given name special. Phil made him feel special and the archer had no idea how the older man did that. Even when he was angry, Coulson never stopped sending the right signals to make Clint feel safe; despite being chewed out.

"I'm tired, sir."

The way Barton said sir had the same effect on Phil as Clinton on Barton. "I know you are, but you're doing well. You'll be back at the range in no time."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. I am." He pulled his lover upright and guided him back to the car. The agents around stared at them in wonder. They were used to Coulson's and Barton's private war. That Coulson and Barton disliked each other was a given fact no one had thought much about. Seeing them getting along felt strange and rose their interest in them.

Clint said nothing during their walk back to the car. He was lost in his mind and bitter thoughts raged like a storm inside his head.

Phil let his gaze wander to Clint from time to time while he made his way through rush hour. Barton's silence worried him. It wasn't fair but it angered him. He hated it when Clint kept his thoughts to himself instead of sharing them with him. Phil felt like he had a right to know what was going on inside his archer's head. Of course he knew that it was presumptuous to expect his lover to share everything with him but he couldn't help it. It was one of his lesser adorable attributes just like his angry outbursts. Phil had no idea why Clint put up with his choleric side at all but he was thankful that he did.

"I'm sorry," Clint mumbled absentmindedly.

Phil swung out so suddenly to stop on the roadside that the car to his right had to stand on the breaks; the driver honked and gesticulated wildly. Phil ignored the commotion and stared at his partner. "What the hell are you sorry for this time?"

Clint remained silent, lowering his head in shame.

"Is it Loki again? I'm alive and there's no lasting damage, end of story. Get it into your thick skull."

"I left you alone."

The anger faded a little. "You didn't. You watched over me."

"No," Clint shook his head and lifted his head to look at Phil. "PT."

Phil frowned, "What…, oh." He wasn't sure if he pitied his lover right now or if he wanted to strangle him.

"It's strenuous, it hurts and it's frustrating and you had to do it alone." Clint rushed, "I want to go alone. I don't want you to accompany me anymore. Meet friends or work, it doesn't matter but I have to do it alone."

"Eye for an eye? Is that it? I accompany you because I want to not because I have to." Phil's anger returned; his lover was frustrating. "Yes, you weren't there, yes I had to suffer alone and yes it hurt. But we weren't together at that time. You had no right to be there with me. I wouldn't have let you. I would have sent you away."

Phil could see Clint's heart break the moment his words left his mouth. It was the hard truth and there's no way around it if they wanted to revive their relationship.

"I'm still sorry," the archer insisted. He knew he had no right to be close to Coulson. He knew any help he had offered back then would have been denied. Phil would have, probably, shot him on the spot. "Don't be mad, please."

Phil's anger disappeared as he heard Clint's pleading voice. His lover was practically begging in his unique way for acceptance. He knew how much Clint hated it when people were angry at him for some reason. On few occasions Clint shied away from his touch. It was rare but a painful reminder of his upbringing. The man in front of him was not Hawkeye. The man in front of him was little Clint afraid of being abandoned. "I'm not mad," Phil sighed deeply.

"You are," Clint smiled sadly. "You were never good at lying."

"Now, **I'm** sorry," Phil placed a hand on Clint's neck and pulled him forward until their foreheads touched. "I didn't change much."

"I'm glad."

"I think that's a character trait I should get rid of."

"No," Clint brought their lips together for a brief kiss. "Without it you'd bottle up anything until you go nuts."

"Raging is not helpful either," Coulson argued.

"But you get rid of your pent up emotions and that's healthy."

"Not for you, you fool," he replied fondly before he kissed his lover once again this time with more heat. "We should go home before the police catch us."

"Seems like your parking style didn't improve much," Clint shrugged nonchalantly. "Being an S.H.I.E.L.D. agent is the only reason you still have your driver's license."

"Says the one who terrorizes NYC on his motorcycle," Phil huffed in mock annoyance.

"I never get caught," that was a fact he was proud of.

"Me neither," Phil smirked.

They continued with their friendly banter until they reached home. It gave them something to focus on and it kept the quarrels away.


	11. Chapter 11

The next two months passed by in a blur. Clint got cleared for duty, with the order to take it easy, and Phil had taken him out on dates every other night. His life felt like a dream. He was still living together with Phil in his apartment. Tony offered him his old room but he declined. Clint wanted to use the chance to live with Phil as long as possible. Even if it was just for a week, a month or a year. They postponed their wedding due to Clint's poor health and Phil's busy schedule after returning to work. They decided to marry on the first anniversary of their new life together. Phil vetoed against the day Clint got shot so they chose the day Clint woke up for the first time after the incident. Coulson had to admit that Clint had been right when he assumed that they needed more time to get to know each other again. Sure Clint was still convinced that he would screw up before they exchanged rings and vows but Phil didn't give it much thought. He knew his archer, at least he hoped he still does, and that was enough for him to believe that he could change the younger man's opinion during the next year.

Phil had no illusions about the fragility of their relationship. It was a hard piece of work. But the possible outcome in case they succeed was way too promising to just give up on trying. They had dreams. Both of them let many dreams and opportunities pass by in their life.

A life together was too precious to let it go. That was one of the topics they agreed on. They had many differences, they always had but they had too much respect for each other to let them interfere with their relationship.

"Stop fretting about it," Clint put his gear on. It was his first mission after his doc cleared him for active duty and Coulson was more than concerned.

"We should look at the plan again, considering different angles, you know."

"We did that thrice this morning and twice yesterday. We gathered all information we could and we looked at it every possible way." Clint fastened the last buckle on his vest. He approached his worrying lover and put his arms around him. "It isn't like you. Not to this degree."

Phil relaxed against his lover, "I don't know."

"It's not our first mission together since our brake up."

"Yeah, the last few years I did not care if you died or not." He felt Clint flinch.

"We had the time before all went south," Clint said softly. "You didn't worry so much either."

Phil could feel the pressure he put Clint under. The archer was waiting for an emotional blow. "We knew each other. I feel like it's our first mission together just that you're not a recruit anymore but my lover."

"And you say I'm hard to understand," he kissed Phil's neck. "My working style did not change and as far as I know yours neither. We can be the team we used to be."

"You have to make your peace with Natasha first," Phil knew Clint meant their working relationship and not the whole team but it was time for the archer to pick up the pieces he left behind.

"I don't know how," he knew she was there when he was at the hospital but she stayed outside of the room. He had seen her two times afterwards.

"She's your sister by choice; it should be easy to fix your differences. Believe me when I say I know she wants to fix the mess as much as you want to."

Clint inhaled deeply; Phil's smell was intoxicating and soothing. "Okay."

"I'm glad," Phil missed his little dysfunctional family.

"You have to fix your friendship with Jasper too." Clint knew how much Phil loved Jasper. He was more like a brother than a friend and it must burn a hole into Phil's heart to know that his lover was the reason they couldn't continue being friends. Barton was secretly glad that Phil chose his love for Clint over his brotherhood with Sitwell.

"It's different," Phil argued and made it clear that he did not want to talk about it.

Clint nodded, "Let's go then." He turned around and left, with the intention to fix the problem for Phil. Coulson and Sitwell were friends and nothing should come between them, not even Clint himself.

The mission was long but went smoothly. Clint was as awesome as ever and didn't get a single scratch. Tony on the other hand was less lucky and got caught inside his armor as Juggernaut ran him over, bending the metal. Stark broke his wrist and got some bruises. Tony's sour mood eased pretty fast as Cap volunteered to care for him.

The relief was clearly visible on Coulson's face after the back up team took Juggernaut into custody. He had feared for his lover's life and it took a lot of discipline not to interfere. It was unprofessional, he knew, but he couldn't help it. They got hurt a lot of times over the years but Loki and Johnson made him think. He had nothing else to do while he was trapped in medical and the same applied to the time he spent in medical with Clint. Time was too precious to waste and Coulson had realized that he'd wasted a lot of time in his life. The hard truth was that they weren't immortal, no matter how much luck Clint had, no matter how smart Phil was; there were much smarter and much luckier people out there. Waiting for a chance to eliminate them. Of course Clint was smart too but he got out of situations, no one had ever thought possible, with his life and luck was the only word Phil could think of to describe his brushes with death.

Phil had neglected his family during his time in the army and one day his parents were gone. He had neglected his first, possibly, serious relationship after joining S.H.I.E.L.D. and had to watch his lover walk away, right into the arms of someone else. His brother had died one year after in a car crash and Phil heard about it after the funeral, because he was stuck in Budapest at the time. He missed his nieces first days at school, their first boyfriends and he never met their new stepdad in person. Phil couldn't remember the last time he went home for the holidays.

Thomas, one of his flings during their time apart, had said that Phil was married to his job and assets. He said that he prayed not to become like Phil. Thomas was an agent, level 5, and Phil thought he might understand the importance of their duty. Obviously he didn't. No one ever did but Clint, and his friends. Coulson had to admit that Thomas was right. Nothing was more important than family. His family should have been his top priority and then his job. He was not the only agent out there. If he's busy someone else could save the day but no one would step in and take his role as protector of his family.

Phil decided not to make the same mistakes again. The world could go to hell for all he cared.

"Stop thinking so hard," Clint appeared by his side. "We did well."

"True but there were a few flaws in our plan," they weren't supposed to start a fight in the middle of the small town. "Fury will get a heart attack when he sees the bill."

"Tony is fine, as well as he can be after his tussle with Juggernaut. Cap is fine, Natasha is unhurt; what else do you want?" He knew it wasn't about the destruction of cars and the kiosk.

"A life," he muttered and walked away to join Woo.

Clint watched him go, too stunned to react. _What does that mean?_ He racked his brain for hours, not paying attention to his team and fellow agents. He just hmm-ed and nodded once in a while. They could have asked if he would strip for Pepper and he would have agreed.

Natasha was worried by his lack of interest and gathered all her courage with the intention to approach him. Sometimes it was way harder to face your own family and friends than the worst villain.

"Hawkeye we need to talk," she dragged him into an abandoned conference room. "What's eating at you?"

Clint blinked, was it truly that easy? He knew what she was offering and just had to take it.

"Something Phil said made me think," he replied after a long minute of silence. He could see the relief in her eyes the moment he gave her an honest answer.

"Is it bad?" She fidgeted, Clint realized. The Black Widow did not fidget. She must be as nervous as he was.

Clint explained the situation and told her about his own theories as a peace offering.

"Sounds like he's tired of being an agent," she agreed with Clint and his theories. None of them thought Phil would retire any time soon but he was unsatisfied with his life.

"Yeah," Clint sighed, leaning back in the chair he occupied.

Natasha pushed her chair closer to Clint's, brushing her shoulder against his.

"I'm sorry Nat. It's not much but it's all I can offer."

"I'm sorry too," was all she said before they fell silent again.

"I miss you," Clint struggled to get his words out. After all he had done 'sorry' and 'I miss you' were sounding lame.

"Don't leave again," it was a warning and a 'me too'. "I meet with Quartermain tonight."

It was an invitation and Clint was thankful, "I'll meet you there. O'Malley's around six?"

She smirked, "You remember." It was evidence that Barton did care.

He interpreted it as a 'yes', "I have to go."

"What are you plotting?" She narrowed her eyes.

"Don't worry," it pained him to see that he lost her trust. "I'm hunting down our dear Sitwell."

"Why?"

"My relationship with Phil is not to his liking…, they stopped being friends because of me and I can't watch it any longer. I have to fix it."

"Let me know if you need help," she got up and placed a gentle kiss on top of Clint's head. "Welcome home."

She vanished, not giving him the option to reply.

:::::::::::::::

Clint found Sitwell in the park close to HQ. He sat on a bench with his lunch in hand. Clint smiled at Jasper's unhealthy chicken-sandwich addiction.

"What do you want?" Jasper tried to get up but Barton's strong hand on his shoulder kept him in place.

"I want to talk," he removed his hand from Jasper's shoulder and sat down next to him.

"There's nothing to talk about."

"That's a lie."

"You want to talk; then talk," Sitwell glared.

"Phil needs you," Clint stated, waiting for Jasper's reaction.

"He does not," he spat.

"He does, he just needs me too and for some reason he feels like he has to choose."

Sitwell snorted.

"I know what you think about me and you're probably right but I love Phil, a lot. I will remain by his side as long as he wants me to; it's a fact you have to accept. We love each other and we can go on the way our life is right now, but that's not what we want. Phil loves you, like a brother, and he misses you terribly."

"What exactly do you want?"

"Tolerate me and be his friend."

"Why should I tolerate you? You'll most likely destroy him for good. I can't tolerate that."

"You're his friend, not mine. We don't have to get along. Important is that Phil needs a life beyond S.H.I.E.L.D., he needs friends and people he can talk to. He needs fun. All I can give him is my love."

"Sounds like you're not enough to make him happy," Jasper grinned. He aimed to hurt.

Clint's heart clenched, "Life is about so much more than love and friends and fun. It's the combination of all factors that makes our lives worth living."

"So you expect me to ignore your relationship and go on as if nothing ever happened?"

"No, I'm begging you to ignore my existence in Phil's life and be his friend," Clint got up. He had nothing else to say. Now it was on Jasper to make a decision. "Have a nice day, Agent Sitwell, sir."

:::::::::::::

"Where have you been?" Phil looked up from the T.V.

"I sent you a message," Clint shed his jacket and let him-self fall onto the couch.

"You said you meet with Natasha at six. Where have you been the hours between the briefing and your date with Natasha?"

"Are you accusing me of cheating?" Clint's eyes widened.

"No," Phil shook his head with wide eyes. "I'm sorry." He closed his eyes.

"Ah," Clint put an arm around his lover, pulling him against his side. "It's a trust thing."

"It's a trust thing," Phil confirmed. "I can't help it."

"I know," Clint smiled gently. "I have to earn your trust. I know that."

"How's Natasha?"

"We're okay." Clint knew that Phil held contact with Natasha. Whatever she did, he knew exactly what, why and how long.

Phil relaxed, "I'm glad. I was worried she'd stab you."

Clint raised a brow, "so you lied about her readiness to forgive me?"

"No, I just… was not as sure as I sounded."

Clint huffed, "you learned to lie during my absence."

"I'm still not good at it. But a little more used to it."

"Why?"

"Because of my unhappiness. The aftermath of our breakup rose questions. Why are you so moody? Are you alright? How was your day? You look tired? Why didn't your brief relationship with Thomas work out?"

"Will you ever lie to me?"

"No," Phil was sure. "Lies could destroy what we have," the message behind his words lingered heavily between them.

"No more lies," Clint lied enough for ten lifetimes. "I'm tired of pretending."

Finally a smile lit up Phil's face, "that came right from your heart." The honesty in Clint's words felt incredible good and sparked the flame of hope. Clint would probably never lie again, at least not about important stuff.

"My heart remained silent for too long," the archer closed his eyes for a moment. He could feel the blush heat his face.

"Romantic," Phil teased before he moved onto Clint's lap. "What do you think about love making and a shower?"

"I'm tired," Clint looked deep into Phil's eyes and could see the frown. They hadn't had sex since they found their way back together. _No more lies, Clinton, no more lies…_

"Okay," Phil got up and straightened his back. "I'm tired too, good night Clint."

"Phil!"

"If you don't want to touch me just say so." He closed the door to their room, stomping around the room in search for his pajama.

Clint waited a moment and gathered his strength, he wasn't ready but he would probably never be. "Phil?" The light was off and Phil had his back to Clint. "It's not you ... I'm ashamed."

"About what?" He gritted out, "for causing the ugly scar on my chest and back? Or for the scars on yours?"

Clint walked around the bed until he faced his lover; he switched on the light. "My skin was never flawless…, but it's…," he took a deep breath and decided to stop talking. He knew sometimes actions spoke louder than words, so he got rid of his shirt.

Phil sat up and eyed his archer. "This one is new," he let his fingers trace the jagged line of a scar. "And this one. They aren't bad."

Clint turned around and revealed a heavily scarred back.

"How…?" Phil choked out.

"I jumped off a building again. I know I shouldn't have, but it was my only option. I crashed through a window, half way down. I landed in shards and some shards found their way into my vest. I had no time to get rid of them and during the rest of the fight the shards chafed the skin off my back."

Phil reached out to touch the scars but stopped himself. He knew they couldn't hurt anymore but he felt like his touch would cause his lover pain. "They must have hurt."

"Getting shot hurt less," the archer shrugged. He felt uncomfortable and exposed so he put his shirt back on.

"How did you manage to hide them?" _I should have noticed them. I didn't pay enough attention. _Clint didn't answer, because it wasn't a question directed at him.

"I love you," Phil looked his lover in the eye. "Nothing will change that."

A small smile appeared on Clint's face, "even damaged?"

"You're not damaged Clinton. Not more than any of us," Phil finally touched his archer's back, slipping his hand beneath the fabric of his shirt. Clint's breath hitched. "It's okay, they're part of you. It's okay."

"They're ugly," he squeezed his eyes shut. Every time he saw them in a mirror he wanted to scream; loud enough for Loki to hear.

"Look at me, love," Phil lifted his chin up with a careful motion but Clint kept his eyes closed.

"Please." Phil waited for a moment before he used one of his martial arts tricks and pinned Clint onto the bed. He was careful not to jostle his tender shoulder or cause him pain in some way. His shoulder was mostly alright but it still got a little sore when he put too much strain on it. Four hours on the range early in the morning, for example. Phil stopped lecturing him about possible consequences days ago; he knew Clint wanted his clearance for top class missions. The archer hated kiddy missions, like he called them.

Clint was surprised as he lost his balance and landed on their bed with Phil's heavy weight on top of him. The older man had a firm hold on his wrists, they were positioned on each side of his head. "I said look at me."

Clint opened his eyes, he trusted the older man with his life. There was no need to be scared of his actions.

"Attaboy," Phil looked down at him with a gentle smile on his lips and love in his eyes.

"Just to feel them beneath my fingers freaks me out," he whispered with teary eyes.

"Listen Clinton, and listen carefully," Phil's voice lost some of its gentleness. "I love you the way you are. I don't care about scars, your deafness and your upbringing." He sealed his words with a harsh kiss, "I love you with all my heart. You could have burn marks all over your body for all I care. You're perfect, no matter how you look like. I don't love you for your pretty body, Clinton. I love you because you're you. It's not your skin that defines you."

A few tears escaped the archer's eyes, his lover's gaze changed from determined to heartbreaking gentle within seconds. The look on Phil's face took his breath away. He could feel how his self-hatred lessened.

Phil placed a firm kiss on Clint's forehead, "I love you; the one inside your pretty head."

Clint lifted his head up in hope to catch his lover's lips before his head was out of reach.

The archer was too slow and his movements were still restricted by Phil's firm hold but the older man leaned forward again; granting him the kiss he so desperately needed.

Phil let go of Clint's wrist, he felt a little guilty for restraining him.

Clint used his chance to cup Phil's cheeks between his hands, he was afraid Phil could leave, "I love you too."

Phil's blinding smile caused a funny feeling inside Clint's stomach. It was a sense of bone deep love and belonging, _I missed that_, "show me I'm still yours."

Phil chuckled, "We can wait." _Are you sure?_

"I'm sure Phil, it's okay," _It was stupid of me to think he'd love me less._

The older man leaned sideward and opened the drawer to get the supplies; dropping them on a pillow afterwards.

"Too many clothes," he grinned cheekily while he threw his shirt away.

Clint huffed, "I can barely move with you on top of me."

"That can be arranged," Phil began kissing Clint's neck, sucking now and then to leave a mark. He pushed Clint's shirt up, his gentle but firm hands roamed over his archer's warm skin, "one more new scar." His fingers ghosted over a small scar close to his sternum. Phil stopped kissing his lover's neck and therefore he focused on the scar, placing a soft kiss on it. "Sit up," Phil remained sitting on his archer's pelvis but granted him enough space to move his upper body. Clint sat up; he struggled a little with getting out of his shirt. His shoulder felt sore and didn't react the way he wanted. In the end it was Phil who freed him from his traitorous shirt.

The older man returned his focus to the scars on Clint's belly, kissing each scar with care.

"I love them. No matter how they look. They're a part of you. And I love all of you."

Clint placed one hand on Phil's head, combing through the soft hair while his lover's kisses sent shivers down his spine, "I adore you Phil. Always have, always will."

Phil smiled against his archer's belly and moved further down. He unbuckled his lover's belt and pulled his pants and underwear down before he spread Clint's legs a little.

"Holy…," Clint gasped as Phil kissed his waist; moving closer to his already excited dick.

Phil chuckled as he took his lover into his mouth; licking along his shaft, sucking and pumping until he was fully erected. "No sex while I wasn't around?" Phil hovered over Clint, kissing him on the lips while one of his hands had a firm hold on his balls. _It's okay if you had. I had too. Just be honest_.

"Just with my right hand," Clint captured Phil's lip in a searing kiss. _I know you had sex with other men. It's okay_. He cupped Phil's face in his hands and pulled him closer so he could suck on his neck without straining his shoulder too much. He let his hands stray from his lover's cheeks to his back, caressing the skin for a moment before he cupped his firm ass, pulling their groins closer together. "Come on, I won't break," he stated softly. _I can see it in your eyes, love_.

Phil looked down at him with delated eyes, "Tell me if it hurts." He grabbed the bottle of lube and coated his fingers before he inserted the first one.

"Geez, I missed that," _I missed you_, Clint's belly muscles moved from pleasure.

Phil placed the palm of his hand on Clint's firm belly as he inserted the next finger. He loved how his muscles flexed under his hand with excitement. The feeling and the sight never stopped to turn him on, no matter how often they had sex in the past.

"On my knees?" Clint choked out as Phil pressed against his prostate.

"Stay on your back, your shoulder can't take it," _I don't want to hurt you_, a tiny smirk tugged on Phil's lips as Clint writhed beneath his hand. _You're so beautiful_. He took the condom and slipped it over his hard penis. "Relax," he settled down between Clint's parted legs and buried himself slowly inside his lover. _Damn, he's tight_.

Clint's breath hitched.

"Shhh take a breath," he pushed further until he was fully in. "Are you alright?" His tone was gentle and filled with worry.

Clint placed his hands on each side of Phil's waist, digging his nails into his flesh. "Don't worry. I'm ready," _you're driving me crazy here_.

Phil did as he was told and thrust into his lover, with as much self-control as he could muster.

It felt great to feel his lover writhing beneath him, completely at his mercy.

Clint liked it when Phil was in control, and not just in the bedroom.

The older man kept him grounded and was something like a living compass; pointing the way home whenever he got lost.

He could feel Clint's slick skin against his own, the movements of his muscles, his nails scratching over his back. _There you go. Let go, love. Just let go of all that's bothering you_.

"Harder Phil," the archer wrapped his legs around Phil's waist to force him deeper into his entrance.

"Eager," Phil panted happily. "I shall grant your wish," he placed a palm against Clint's cheek and with the other hand he supported his own weight before he thrust into him deep and hard.

"Yeah," Clint whimpered. "Just like that. God I love you." _I feel so warm inside my chest_.

All Phil could hear after that, were Clint's moans with each thrust he made. His archer was out of breath and his lust hazed mind didn't seem to register more than Phil's body against his own. "You're so pretty. Not damaged at all," _my precious archer_. "I missed you," he nuzzled his lover's neck. _It feels so right. Nobody's able to compete with you. You belong to me_.

He cried out as Phil hit his prostate with one well aimed thrust. "You're one to talk; you're so god damn lovable. I missed your touches, your warm skin. Your voice." It was exactly how he imagined it in his fantasies during their time apart; gentle, loving, Phil who treasured his broken archer as if he was precious. And he knew, to Phil he was exactly that, precious.

Phil loved hearing these things so he thrust again and again until he could feel Clint tightened around him. It was the first sign that his archer was close. He initiated a loving kiss, "Don't leave ever again." _Just look at me, no one else. I can provide all you need_.

Clint adored the view of Phil's sweat glistening body above him, the love and lust in his pretty eyes. "Never again. It was stupid of me to think…," he felt loved and connected to Phil. They were one; a unit, moving in synch. "I'm go…," a well-aimed thrust and a bite to the neck cut his sentence short. "Fuck."

"I know, love. I know," Phil placed his palm above Clint's racing heart. _You don't have to say it. I know it._

It took three more thrusts for Clint to release his semen between their bellies and two more thrusts for Phil to release inside his panting lover.

The older man slumped down on top of him, gasping for air. Colorful dots were dancing in front of his eyes and his body felt heavy.

He was happy, so incredible happy he couldn't put it into words.

Clint breathed heavily as he wrapped his arms possessively around his lover's torso. "That was…" _I feel whole again_.

"Yeah," Phil agreed. _The missing part of my soul has returned_.

"We should shower," Clint stated after a few minutes. _I'd hold you forever if I could_.

"We should," Phil pulled out very carefully and got rid of the condom. "Come," he offered Clint his hand. _Stay with me_.

The archer took it with a satisfied smile on his lips, "I love you."

"Love you too," they strolled into the bathroom.

Phil used the chance to wash Clint's hair and scarred body, studying each scar. "They aren't that bad. They make you more unique."

Clint chuckled, "Hmhm, I think I can get used to them. And yours." It was Clint's turn to pamper his handler, he placed butterfly kissed on each new scar before he applied shower gel.

His fingers lingered longer than necessary over the scar Loki inflicted, "Even that one."

Phil took Clint's hand and pressed their intertwined hands against his chest before his kissed him gently.

They didn't need words to communicate, each touch, each kiss, told them exactly what they needed to know.

They belonged together. Their bodies and hearts worked in tune and not even a break up and years apart could change that.


	12. Chapter 12

"Are you ready?" Phil eyed his lover. It was the first mission Clint was permitted to take where he wasn't confined to a roof. He was finally able to throw himself into a fight, _literally_.

"Hell yeah," Clint beamed with joy. He hated watching his friends getting hurt while he wasn't able to leave the roof. He could have disobeyed but he was aware that he would have been a liability instead of a help; and in addition to that Phil would have grounded him for weeks.

"Take care," the older man gave him a brief kiss. "Go and get them."

"Have fun," Clint grabbed his bow and hurried out of the room, _I'm glad Jasper invited Phil to grab a drink_.

Phil wasn't accompanying him today. It was his day off and he trusted Captain America enough to place his lover's life in his hands. Rogers was a good man and experienced leader.

He looked at his watch and cursed, _I'm running late_. He grabbed his jacket and texted his friend while he walked down to hail a cab.

It was a little awkward at first but after their second drink they started talking about their work. It was a safe topic both men were comfortable with.

"I have three new recruits," Jasper sighed. "They're driving me crazy." It felt good to talk with Phil. _I missed him_.

"Sloppy reports and smartass attitude?" Phil grinned while he sipped on his beer.

"Yes," Jasper played with his bottle. "That's not the way we learned it. Can't we just sit this one out, we aren't ready. Was that even legal?" He imitated their voices.

Phil had to laugh at the last part, "nothing we do is legal. Sometimes it borders on legal but that's it."

"You're probably right," Jasper smiled happily. "Fury assigned me a new mission today. He finally lets me play with heroes, too. There are a bunch of kids with mutations and special abilities. It's my job to train them. We need their skill sets and it's safer for society when we keep them on a leash."

"Keeping them on a leash is not enough. They need a purpose and a home. You can't train loyalty, that's something you have to earn or else the next best villain with a great offer will lure them away. But I think you'll do a great job. The kids need someone like you," Phil praised.

"Thank you but I think I need your advice from time to time," Phil was famous for handling lost causes.

"My door is always open."

"I don't know how you do it," Jasper stared at the label of his beer. "You handle people like them with ease. They're dangerous, insane and maladjusted but you…. You take them in, you train them and in the end they act according to your wishes. They trust you and most of them would never betray your trust. And I wonder why."

"That's a good question," Phil put his beer down and rested his arms on the table, giving Jasper a thoughtful look. "I try not to treat them like the nutcases they are. I put my trust in them from the beginning, asking for their opinion and worries. Oh, don't think I'm stupid enough to trust them but they believe I do, well a little part of me truly does. I have trust in their skills and I think that people are able to change. They chose the wrong path but their mistakes shouldn't define who they are. Most of them just need a chance."

_Is that the reason you trust Barton so much?_ "How can an agency like S.H.I.E.L.D. be considered as home?"

Phil smiled at his friend, "It's your home too. Your wife is an agent. Your children's nursery teacher is an agent. Your house is S.H.I.E.L.D property. Your friends are agents as well."

"Oh, now that you mention it," his friend was right. _That's awful. When did I that happen?_

"I think so too," he smirked. Phil knew Jasper well enough to know what he was thinking.

"You're creepy. I can't get used to it no matter how much time passes."

"Experience," Coulson shrugged.

"I missed you," Sitwell blurted out before he could stop himself. _Fuck_.

"Why did you ask me out?" Phil used the breach in Jasper's defense to ask the question he didn't dare to ask until now.

Jasper tilted his head, "Because Barton asked me to."

"What?" Phil looked at him in surprise. He didn't see that coming.

"A few weeks ago he cornered me and what he said got me thinking," he fell silent.

"Has he threatened you?" _That's not like Clint_.

"What, no." Jasper shook his head. He didn't like the archer but he wouldn't lie to get rid of him. "No. He asked me to be your friend. He told me to ignore his presence in your life, because I'm your friend and not his. You know, he's right. I am your friend and I should act like one. He has nothing to do with our friendship and your relationship shouldn't bother me. Phil, I'm just scared he'll hurt you again. Being a bad friend was never my intention. I don't want to get between you two and I'm sorry you felt like you had to choose."

_Thank you Clint_, "You are a good friend. I think it's my fault too. I overreacted and hurt both of us in the process. I'm glad to have a friend like you. If our roles were reversed I'd probably act the same way." He raised his bottle and waited for Jasper to do the same, "Friends." He bumped his bottle against Jasper's. _I'm sorry_.

The heartfelt smile on his friend's face told him everything he needed to know.

Jasper would always be his best friend.

"Friends," Jasper agreed wholeheartedly. _Thank god_.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::

"I know what you did," Phil put his arms around his lover while the younger man stirred the sauce.

"The incident with Tony or begging Jasper to play with you?" He tried to hide a smile.

"What have you and Tony done this time?" Phil huffed.

"Well, he built a color bomb arrowhead. Just for fun."

"Uh-hu," Phil had a vague idea.

"Let's just say Nat's bike looks awesome in pink. We should paint a Hello Kitty on the front. What do you think?"

"Does she know it was you?" He chuckled softly.

"She still feels guilty so I got a free pass on this. Tony's favorite car on the other hand spots a beautifully knife-crafted painting of a pig. Or it is a Hello Kitty I'm not too sure about that. Painting was never one of her strongest suits."

"You're an idiot, Barton."

"I know, sir. But you love me anyway," he turned his head to flash his lover a big smile. "So you're date with Jasper went well?"

"Don't call it a date, he's like a brother and the thought alone gives me the creeps," he shuddered dramatically.

"So it went well," Clint pecked him on the cheek. "I'm glad."

"So am I," Phil ruffled Clint's head before he sat down on the worktop. "Thank you."

"People need friends," Clint stated. "And Jasper is a good friend. He takes care of you. I like that."

Phil smiled at his archer, "You're the best boyfriend ever."

Clint blushed furiously, _now that's a surprise_.

Phil placed his hand on Clint's chest to feel his heartbeat, _I thought so_. "Still allergic to compliments?"

"A little," he smiled, avoiding Phil's eyes.

"How do you manage Cap's constant praising?"

"I don't. I hide behind arrogance but that doesn't work with you," he sighed. "But I fear Cap will figure it out one day. He's a little dense at times but far from stupid."

"If he figures out how adorable you are beneath your hard shell he'll coddle you even more," Phil mused.

"I'm screwed," Clint shuddered.

"You'll get used to it. Steve loves you," Phil shrugged nonchalantly. "To be honest I'm surprised."

"And so am I," Clint had no idea what Captain America was seeing in him.

"You're a good person; I think that's probably the main reason. After I got to know you I was surprised about how kind you truly are. I knew your bad-ass attitude was just for show. A protection mechanism if you want to call it that. But I didn't think you're constantly worrying about people, especially people you don't even know." _It was about the time I realized that you don't value your own life_.

Clint smiled despite his melancholic feeling, "I always cared. I don't know why. Funny, given that I'm an assassin."

"Well you're not a mindless killer and you fight for a better world, which makes it alright in my book."

"You always know what to say," the archer chuckled. "Dinner is ready," he put the sauce on top of the noodles.

"Your mom's recipe?"

"Yep," Clint beamed. They talked so often about his parents that it didn't hurt anymore.

He had many mental issues because of his past which intensified over the years but with his past by itself, he was at peace.

Thanks to Phil, Natasha and Nick.

"I love your cooking," he took their plates. "Thanks," he kissed his archer's cheeks.

"You're welcome."


End file.
